Setting Hermione Free
by FascinatingSnape
Summary: A story in which we find Hermione discouraged, disgusted, and moderately deranged. It's time for a change. Chapters start short; it was going to be a drabble series that exploded. HGRW eventually HGSS Rated for language and mature situations.
1. Chapter 1

**Setting Hermione Free**

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Jo. I own nothing. Do not sue.

**Chapter 1**

Does he think I'm stupid? Does he really think I'm that effing stupid?

Hermione lay in bed, her blood boiling.

Her husband, Ronald Bilius Weasley- git extraordinaire- was snoring beside her.

Honestly, the man was a menace!

She imagined it must be after two in the morning. He'd come bumbling, stumbling, into bed. Reeking of smoke, firewhisky, and cheap whore.

Boys' night out indeed.

He could have at least had the decency to wash his hands.

The arse.

The bloody. Stinking. Effing. Arse!


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Jo. I own nothing. Do not sue.

**Chapter 2**

She felt empty.

Chilly early morning light shone through the bedroom window.

The bedroom she had shared with her husband of 9 years.

She was tired.

She looked over at his sleeping form. She felt nothing. Not hatred, not anger. Just blissful nothingness.

She was completely burned out.

She could no longer continue to work on the project of "Ron." She gave up.

Yes, Hermione, founder of S.P.E.W., defender of Werewolves and Snarky Potions Professors had given up.

The old saying, "You can lead a hippogriff to water, but you can't make him drink" floated lazily through her mind.

How true.

If she were honest with herself, she could admit that it had been over for a while.

She was so tired of trying, she couldn't even feel disappointed in herself, or him for that matter.

Sighing, she sat up.

She had to get ready for work.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Jo. I own nothing. Do not sue.

**Chapter 3**

Hermione hated failure.

It stung her to realize that it was probably her pride that kept her trying all these years.

This was pretty much all her fault. She knew that they were not a good match. She was supposed to be the smart one.

She shouldn't have settled.

Affections between her and Ron were warm, but never passionate.

She believed at the time that it was enough. Wrongly believed it would be enough for her, and apparently wrongly believed it was enough for him.

Ron probably didn't even know why he was so unhappy with his wife.

But she knew.

She would never be able to be the simpering, fawning, panting-over-his-every-word kind of wife. That was what Ron needed.

She could do that, and would probably be happy to do it, if it were not for one thing:

She was not in love with Ron.

She never was.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Jo. I own nothing. Do not sue.

**Chapter 4**

_How did this even happen_? She wondered.

When he asked her to marry him, she was so surprised.

Honestly, she had never really thought of marriage seriously before that. It was always kind of 'out there' in the nebulous realm of someday.

She always assumed she would go to uni or get an apprenticeship.

_But here he was with an offer_, her practical mind reasoned. She loved Ron, of course she did, he was one of her best friends.

Hermione did not realistically think a mad and passionate love was out there waiting for her. She was the bookworm, after all. She really didn't believe anyone else would ever ask her.

Being married didn't have to mean the end to her dreams. She would continue in her education, she determined to make it work.

Everyone was moving on with their lives after the fall of Voldemort. Getting married seemed like the right thing to do.

She knew it was too early. Everyone was still grieving and trying to grasp any happiness possible.

They could have at least waited until Voldemort's body had cooled before making plans, though…

OK, so she made a mistake.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Jo. I own nothing. Do not sue.

**Chapter 5**

Discouraged

Disgusted

Moderately Deranged.

That was how Hermione would describe herself at the moment.

Hermione made her way up to her flat. She stopped outside the door, not even wanting to know what she would find inside.

Yes, just as she suspected, Ronald was asleep sprawled out on the couch. Telly tuned onto some stupid sports channel.

Sigh, What would it be tonight? Ugh, Muggle boxing of all things.

Taking a fortifying breath, she stepped into the room.

Crisp packaging littering the coffee table.

Socks crumpled up in a ball on the floor.

What else was new?

She had come home from work to this particular scene almost every day, the exception being the days he was out with 'the boys'- usually Dean or Seamus. On those nights, Ron usually made it home, pissed but in high spirits.

She shook him awake.

"Ron, get up, we have to be at your mother's for dinner."

"Oh, and please do brush your teeth."


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Jo. I own nothing. Do not sue.

**Chapter 6**

There was little more Hermione despised as much as going to "the Burrow."

She didn't mean to be ungrateful. As a student, the Weasleys accepted her as part of their family. Now, she happened to be part of the family.

They were always so damn pushy. _ When are you going to settle down? When are my grandbabies coming? _

It was a load of rubbish.

It was unfortunate.

They did not know her at all.

She wanted to open up to them, and let them know how she really felt about things. However, it was pointless to disagree with the "Official Weasley Opinion" on anything.

Eventually, she just stopped attempting anything that may resemble a real discussion.

She was polite.

She nodded her head at all the appropriate moments.

Inside, she was an inferno of rage and resentment.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Jo. I own nothing. Do not sue.

**Chapter 7**

Hermione suffered all of the latest gossip, Quidditch news, and Ron's abysmal table manners continually through dinner. He was now, thankfully, helping his mother carry dessert from the kitchen.

Hermione excused herself to the loo.

After splashing some water on her face, Hermione wearily looked into the mirror. She took a deep breath, and braced herself for the storm that was Molly Weasley.

As she was passing by the kitchen, she heard Ron and Molly talking in hushed tones.

"I think all she needs is a push in the right direction."

"I don't know, Mum."

"Nonsense, Ronald. I've known plenty of witches who've unexpectedly found themselves 'in the family way' and in the end they were delighted. Hermione is just too headstrong for her own good. Trust me, she needs a few children to take her mind off all this foolishness she's into. Now, take this. The potion is expired, so it is no longer potent. It tastes and looks the same. She'll never know, and in a couple of months you'll be making your announcements."

Hermione froze.

She wanted to run away from the house screaming, but her feet felt like lead.

She could hardly breathe. She was so shocked and angry.

She buried all emotion, and trying for all the world to not look like a frightened rabbit, sat back down at the table.

After dessert, which Hermione could not bring herself to touch, Ron turned to her, "Oi, Mione. You alright? You look a bit peaky."

"I'm OK Ron, I think I just need a good night's sleep. Maybe we should go home." she mumbled.

As they were leaving, Hermione saw Molly lean over to Ron conspiratorially and whisper, "Maybe she doesn't need that potion after all! Ha!"

_As if._ Hermione thought.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Jo. I own nothing. Do not sue.

**Chapter 8**

Hermione was sitting alone on her bed. She was eternally grateful Ron decided to "pop out for a nip." She didn't think she could even look at him right now without becoming physically violent.

_Pull it together, Hermione. _

_Breathe! _

In.

Out.

_Yes, that's it. Now, think_.

As much as she wanted to rip her husband's face off right now, Hermione was – first and foremost – a sensible girl. She would think through this. Of very few things was she certain:

Point A: She hated this train wreck that currently was her life.

Point B: Ronald Weasley was a self-serving arse.

Point C: She needed a plan.

Points D through Z: she'd better come up with an unerringly damn fine plan, if she were to escape this debacle of a marriage, with her sanity and standing intact.

Now, to take inventory:

The flat she shared with her husband – and at this point she used the term loosely- was hers. That at least was in her favor. However, she had a dead end job. A job she hated – no, loathed, actually. And her Gringotts vault was not overflowing with galleons, either.

Actually, the most positive thing she could say about her nine years of self-imposed hell (marriage) was that at least she managed not to produce any offspring with that redheaded toss-pot.

Wait.

_Please tell me that he had just thought up this half cocked plan up now. Please tell me he didn't sabotage last month's birth control potion. Please, anything but that…_

Taking a deep breath and summoning all of the courage noble Gryffindors are noted for, she cast the spell.

She held that breath as the wand tip passed over her abdomen.

No change.

_Thank all the gods and goddesses! All deities above and below_!

She was not pregnant.

It was not that Hermione was a cold-hearted bitch who hated children. Actually she enjoyed children very much and could see herself having a family in the future.

However, something always stopped her. Basically – and she could finally admit it – she just couldn't imagine having children _with Ron._

Presently, she could not imagine _who else_ she could imagine having children with, she just knew it wasn't Ron.

All these years, she knew subconsciously, that children would be an unbreakable link in a chain that would forever jail her to her momentary post-war lapse in judgment.

Thank Merlin for small favors.

At least she felt like she could settle to sleep now.

Yes, sleep is what was needed.

After all, she had to work tomorrow.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Jo. I own nothing. Do not sue.

**Chapter 9**

Hermione woke up the next morning, early sunlight filtering in through her bedroom curtains.

She sighed and stretched.

She had a full half hour before she needed to start her shower.

Her usual morning routine had her mentally cataloging her schedule. She was also formulating her plan.

Ron hadn't even made it to the bedroom last night, which meant he would be passed out on the couch – unless he decided that he really was unbearably miserable, and had decided to leave, never to return. Oh, one could only hope!

No, she was sure Ron would never be the one to make the first move. Nine years had taught her something. The man had no initiative.

It was up to her.

She knew what she wanted.

She felt so _muggle_ about it though.

_Hermione! Stop it this instant!_ She mentally chided herself. _Time to act the Gryffindor you claim to be. Just spit it out. You want a divorce. Yes, they were frowned upon. Yes, it will be messy…. difficult… complicated…._

_Yes, it will be all those things and more. In spite of that,_ she thought, _I need to do this. This is step one in reclaiming my life. _

Oddly, although the thought of the emotional chaos she would have to wade through made her shudder, she felt quite serene.

She had planned on working a half day today, for she had promised Minerva she'd meet her for lunch.

It would only take a quick owl to her barrister and she could have an appointment for the afternoon.

She would do it.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Jo. I own nothing. Do not sue.

**Chapter 10**

A slight melancholy settled on Hermione as she watched the owl wing its way into the distance.

She knew the only way to weather the events to come was with quiet determination.

She would not let anyone intimidate her. She would not feel guilty. She would not feel ashamed. She would not worry about what people were thinking of her. She would carry herself with dignity.

Yes, she would do what she needed to do.

To add insult to injury, as Hermione was a maelstrom of emotion her supposed partner in life was sleeping contentedly not five meters away.

However, she didn't have much time to wax melodramatic. She checked the mirror one last time. Her white uniform, signifying she was a worker in St. Mungo's Potions Lab, was pressed to perfection. Her hair was wound tightly at the base of her neck. Gathering up her satchel, she slipped out the door.

On nice days, Hermione walked to work. She was grateful that she had the time to herself. Muggles paid little attention to the red bricked London department store that housed the hospital and even less attention to its visitors.

She used the time this morning to consider her flat.

She felt as she bought it and maintained it she was entitled to live there after the divorce went through. Besides, Ron would probably be returning to the Burrow.

If it weren't so close to St. Mungo's she would probably move.

She really didn't like the place.

The streets were filled with people, autos, and the general chaos of the modern Muggle world.

Frankly, Hermione missed walking in the door and casting _Lumos_, and how good it felt to cast a strong _Incendio_ on a chilly morning.

As far as she knew, as long as Ron had the telly, he was happy.

Maybe after she was done with the barrister, she could look for a place in Hogsmead.

That still didn't solve the dilemma of being near work. She could always apparate, or maybe Minerva would know of a vacancy at Hogwarts.

Too soon, Hermione's steps brought her to the doors of Purge and Dowse, Ltd.

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A/N: So do you like it so far? Review and let me know.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Jo. I own nothing. Do not sue.

**Chapter 11**

Lunch could not come soon enough for Hermione.

While she was certainly looking forward to getting out of the office, she desperately wanted to meet with Minerva.

After Hermione's parents died in her seventh year, she looked to Minerva as a maternal role model. Throughout the years, their friendship deepened into something firm and lasting, and Hermione was dreadfully appreciative of Minerva's presence in her life.

Immediately after the war, she accepted an apprenticeship with Minerva in Transfigurations, and did receive her Mistress title. However, she did not take a teaching position at Hogwarts when it was offered because Ron did not want her tied to the castle ten months out of the year. As a newlywed, Hermione figured this was a legitimate concern and although it didn't sit too well with her at first, she believed marriage was about compromise - until she was the one doing all the compromising.

Hermione was planning on telling Minerva about her recent decisions. She was nervous, yes; she did not want Minerva to worry about her or to be upset for her.

_Admit it, Girl! You're terrified she is going to try to talk you out of it! _ Hermione thought as she grabbed her cloak.

Putting it on over her uniform, she rushed to the Apparition point and a minute later was walking up the path toward The Three Broomsticks.

"Hermione! It's been far too long." Minerva greeted her with a hug. "Let's hurry inside and get a seat."

Rosmerta was also glad to see Hermione. "Care for a drink, Loves?" She asked as she settled them at a table.

"Scotch, neat."

"Make that two."

Minerva raised her eyebrows at Hermione's choice in afternoon beverage, but chose not to comment as they sat and waited for their meal.

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A/N: Firstly, I'd like to thank everyone who took the time to review. You guys are the best! My apologies for not updating sooner. RL has kept me very busy, but my stories are never far from my mind. I've just finished scads of paperwork, so now I can reward myself, and write a little FF! Look for more updates soon!


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Jo. I own nothing. Do not sue.

**Chapter 12**

After sitting through an unusually quiet lunch, Minerva turned to Hermione.

"Alright witch, out with it! I can tell there's been something bothering you all afternoon. You look like you've a Bowtruckle tucked behind your sternum all afternoon." Then softening, "Please Hermione, you're making me nervous, just tell me. Child, are you ill?"

Hermione looked up suddenly.

"Oh, no… Nothing like that."

The younger witch took a fortifying breath.

"It is that I have something to tell you, and I'm nervous about your reaction. I am happy with my decision, but I don't want you to be disappointed in me."

Hermione knew she'd better just have out with it, before she lost her nerve.

"I know it is frowned upon, and I'm in for an uphill battle, but I've decided to divorce Ron.

I am sorry if this banishes any delusions anyone has had of our domestic bliss, but I have been miserable, Minerva." Then she added quietly, "For so long."

Minerva, meanwhile, had come around to Hermione's side of the table and sitting next to her, embraced her in a fierce hug.

Hope flared briefly in Hermione's chest; only to be crushed mercilessly when she felt Minerva's shoulders shuddering, hitching – rising and falling – beneath her grip.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Minerva….. I never wanted to hurt you, I don't want to hurt anyone. Please….. I'm so sorry."

Minerva looked up from Hermione's now sopping shoulder with a broad grin on her face.

What?!?

A smile?!?

Had she been….. laughing?

"Don't be daft, girl. I don't know what you're blubbering about, but I've been waiting for you to ditch that wastrel for years!"


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Jo. I own nothing. Do not sue.

**Chapter 13**

Hermione stood, pumping the arm of her barrister, Mr. Spade, with heartfelt gratitude.

He returned her hearty handshake with a soft smile. "Let me know if there is anything else I can do for you, Hermione."

"I will, James, thank you."

Hermione held in her hands a small scroll. It was the Complaint for Dissolution of Marriage Contract. Once signed by both parties, the paperwork would go to the Ministry. If the divorce remained uncontested by either member, in six months their marriage contract would be null and void.

Hermione considered herself very fortunate. Unlike many other witches, she did not have a desire to take a wand oath on her marriage. She did not want to be in any way "obedient" to Ronald.

Therefore, their marriage, although not a common concept in the wider wizarding world was much more a business partnership than a bonded union.

Hermione meandered through Hogsmead. Not quite ready to go home yet, and her mind wandered to the particulars of their separation.

They were petitioning for a no-fault dissolution of partnership. No charges of infidelity were filed, no children of the union to consider – which made the process easier.

There was a slight hitch, which prevented Hermione from easing her mind completely.

By regulation, either party had six months to contest the terms of the divorce or file a suit for damages.

Divorcing partners were required to pay restitution to the other if necessary. Under wizarding law, Ron could petition for damages because she had prevented him from acquiring an heir. However, as they had not yet been married 10 full years, this was unlikely.

Hermione was not content to naively trust the Weasley clan. Dissenters were not treated kindly.

She knew with all certainty that if Ron chose to pursue her, she would inform the courts about his plans to get her to conceive a child against her will.

It was nice to have a bit of leverage in her favor.

She felt rather proud, in a very Slytherin kind of way.

A/N: Ok, I know this chapter contains very little dialog, and lots of information. Consider it a bridge. Please review.


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Jo. I own nothing. Do not sue.

**Chapter 14**

Hermione was thankful Ron was not in when she returned to the flat.

She had a chance to relax and deliberate over when to give Ronald the papers.

She really wanted to catch him in a good mood, so he would just sign them with as little fuss as possible. Hermione realized this was not likely, but would plead with him, for once in his life, to see reason.

_Bugger._

Hermione fixed dinner, knowing that after Ronald had eaten his fill he may be more amenable to discuss things more agreeably.

Unfortunately, Ronald was agreeable - however not in the way Hermione intended, and events were quickly changing course. She did not like the looks of this.

Ron walked up behind Hermione drawing his hands around her waist. She managed to shimmy out of his embrace just before his lips reached her neck.

She quickly moved to the sink and busied herself with the dishes. He hurried behind her, put his hands on her shoulders and tried to kiss her again.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione turned around, and holding Ron at arm's length, told him firmly, "It's not a good time, Ron."

Her skin crawled at his continued contact.

"But Hermie," Ron whined, "Mr Longie wants some attention from Miss Fuzz."

_That is it! It ends now!_

That was the proverbial broomstick breaking the thestral's back. Hermione wrenched herself away from him as if scalded.

"Get away from me Ron, No offense, but I really don't want you touching me. Actually, take as much offense as you want, as long as you stay the hell away from me!"

Looking past his dumb-dog stare, Hermione continued.

"Actually Ronald, I'm trying to talk to you. Bugger all! This is not going the way I planned. Listen, there really is no right way to say this - Ron, I'm asking you for a divorce."

"What?!? Herms, is this just about the sex?"

_Gods, what an idiot! How can he be so dense?_

"Really Ron, no it isn't. This has been coming for a while."

"But Hermie, you don't want to divorce me…"

Hermione put up her hand to quiet him.

"Ronald, I am leaving these papers here. If for once in your life, you decide to show a shred of decency, please sign them. If you've ever held an ounce of affection for me, please sign them. If you want to be free to live a life with an adoring wife who will give you all the children you want, please sign them.

Think about what you really want, Ron. If you are honest with yourself, you'll see we were finished years ago. Let's cut our losses and move on.

I'm leaving now, I'll be back in the morning.

Goodbye, Ron."

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A/N:

Thank you for all your lovely reviews. They've made my day. Please leave another!

OK: I've had elements of that confrontation in my mind from the inception of this tale. Idiot Ronald believes the "Mr Longie" comment passes for a pick up line. It is so moronic, it's almost embarrassing to write.

These chapters are getting longer. Maybe when the whole thing is finished, I'll flesh some of them out and fuse some chapters. What do you think? Either way, that will be a while in coming. I have 2 other works in progress, plus a one shot brewing. I just had to exorcise this story before moving on with the rest.


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Jo. I own nothing. Do not sue.

**Chapter 15**

Hermione woke early and took a stretch that would have been worthy of old Crookshanks. She had a few hours to kill before she needed to go home and begin preparations for work.

She had plans to owl Minerva in an attempt to get together that evening for supper.

She lay a while longer, her thoughts swimming lazily – one thought drifting into the next.

She really wanted to move out of Muggle London. Bottom line, she was not happy there.

She would love to live in an exclusively wizarding area, like Hogsmead.

Her main concern was the distance she would have to travel daily to work.

Which led to thoughts of her work.

Hermione, without doubt, loved Potions. It was that plain fact that had kept her at a job that was tedious and tremendously monotonous, at best.

It was unfortunate that she lacked a Mistress title in the field. That designation alone would permit her to fulfill her desire – research.

If there was one thing Hermione loved it was a mystery. She had a penchant for asking – and finding the answers to – questions, many and varied.

She wanted to know everything, from the obscure to the mundane.

Hermione had many theories that could improve some of the medicinal potions that were commonly used at St. Mungos. She could not develop any of these ideas, however, due to her status and lack of funding.

There were not many areas - outside the Ministry - that were as tied up in bureaucracy as the Department for Research and Development at St Mungos.

All hopes for research aside, her job was still terribly stagnating. Even the high level emergency poisoning cases that came in were taken by the masters.

Hermione cringed in her musing. She used the term "Master" very loosely. Not that she believed they lacked the credentials; they merely worked in a manner that she found very distracting.

There were a few workplace behaviors that irked Hermione - bench stations were cluttered, and ingredient stores were shelved haphazardly. It was unfortunate; she had hoped to find more stringent laboratory standards in a medical facility.

She recognized, of course, that this was probably due to her own time as a student under a particularly fastidious instructor.

Letting her thoughts burn away like a morning fog, Hermione got up out of bed.

An owl to Minerva and a quick apparition home, found her at the door of her flat.

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A/N: Finally, we at least get an honorable mention of Severus. Don't worry, we'll see _much_ more of him in chapters to come!

I am shamelessly asking for reviews. ~FS


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Jo. I own nothing. Do not sue.

**Chapter 16**

Hermione stood outside the door, unsure of what she would find behind it.

A memory of one of those old game shows her parents used to watch flashed in her mind:

_You've won, Miss Granger…. Now claim your prize! What will you choose? Behind door number one: a distraught and drunken ex-husband, crying, slobbering, and begging for your return. Behind door number two: a pathetic Ron, stating his love, his undying affection, "I'll change, Mione, promise, just don't leave me." Or door number three: an entire clan of angry Weasleys waiting to stage an intervention. _

Taking a moment to collect herself, she willed her hand to reach out and grasp the knob.

Walking in the door, Hermione found none of the above mentioned scenarios before her. In fact, Ron had not appeared to move since Hermione left him last night.

He sat, dazed, on the couch. He wore the same clothes he had on yesterday and he was staring off into space.

Hermione stood before him, waiting for some kind of response.

She did not receive one.

Apprehension turned to concern, then quickly transformed to impatience.

Hermione stalked off toward the bedroom to get ready.

His voice stopped her in the doorway.

"Hermione?"

"Yes, Ron?" she replied, her back still facing him.

"Who is he?"

Spinning around, Hermione was ready to defend herself.

Just as quickly, her anger gave way to resignation.

_This is a sad testament to the fact that even after I've known this man seventeen years, he still does not know me. _

Choosing to ignore the melodrama brewing before her, Hermione answered.

"No one Ron. There is no one else. I know it may be hard for you to believe, but I'm doing this for myself."

Ron only nodded silently.

Hermione swept into the bedroom to prepare for her day.

Donning her uniform after a quick shower, Hermione packed a bag of clothes. She was planning on staying at the Leaky Cauldron for the remainder of the week.

She wanted to distance herself from Ron for a bit, and she realized she had no idea what his plans were.

Slipping into the living room, she found the couch empty.

Upon the coffee table lay the Nullification Contract.

Signed.

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A/N:

Well, Hermione is one step closer. (but not out of the woods yet – mwahahahaha)

Thanks to all who reviewed. It really makes a difference.

Love to All! ~FS


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Jo. I own nothing. Do not sue.

**Chapter 17**

_My, it is a good thing I can brew Pepper Up in my sleep_, thought Hermione.

She didn't want to be careless where the health of the wizarding world was concerned, but she was finding it hard to focus on the potion on the bench before her.

_It's funny how it's all happening so quickly. It feels as if I've woken from a bad dream – a long one. Now that I'm awake, I can't wait to start my life. I've never been happier to give up a Crusade. It's time to live my life – it's wonderful!_

While she continued to work on the potion, Hermione continued her thoughts from this morning, and tried to take an objective look at the work she did.

She enjoyed the work in general, but the atmosphere was suffocating.

Hermione honestly acknowledged she could be happy doing many things. She held a Mistress title in Transfigurations, and would find teaching acceptable.

It was possible to do freelance Transfigurations, but Hermione knew she would enjoy other occupations as well. She could see herself working for the goblins at Gringotts, or as a Metal-charmer, or a Curse-breaker; she wouldn't mind a career in Muggle relations, either.

Without Ron holding her back, she was startled to see how many options lay before her.

Tentatively, she felt as if she had every opportunity in the wizarding world; however, she couldn't help but wonder if her prospects would start to dwindle once her divorce became public. The wizarding world was not very forgiving when it came to things like this, and the Weasleys in general were a well liked pure-blood family.

She was not foolish enough to assume that she was a war hero in her own right.

No, the wizards and witches that made the world go round had notoriously short memories. Scandal, many times, far outweighed personal accomplishment.

In addition, Hermione had no doubt Harry would align himself with Ginny and the rest of the Weasleys. They were, in essence, his only family. Not to mention he was deliriously happy with Ginny and their three children.

There was no uncertainty that her actions would put her at odds with most of the community she regularly associated with.

_It is curious, _Hermione mused_, it really is not so distressing to me. It feels so good to finally do something for myself, and if someone else doesn't like it, then they can go hang!_

While she was at lunch, a large tawny owl alighted beside Hermione. She immediately recognized it as Minerva's.

Smiling as she read the note requesting Hermione's presence at the castle for dinner, she tucked the note away.

Ignoring the overwhelming urge to tender her resignation that afternoon, Hermione returned to work.

She only had a few hours left, and she was looking forward to a most pleasant evening.

She had to share her good news.

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A/K:

Once again, thanks for the awesome reviews. If you're so inclined, please leave another. I'm not completely happy with this chapter, but I couldn't seem to nail it down. Perhaps suffering from a major migraine has something to do with this. Either way, here it is for now, next chapter coming soon.

~FS


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Jo. I own nothing. Do not sue.

**Chapter 18**

Hermione took a deep breath of sweet, Scottish air.

Walking through the main gates, she reflected on how much Hogwarts and it's grounds felt like home to her.

Hermione found love and acceptance within these walls. She loved finding excuses to visit.

Once inside the entrance hall, she let the sounds of Hogwarts surround her: shoes shuffling on the stone floors, students' chatter, shifting rucksacks, waving parchments, occupants ascending and descending staircases making their way from the Great Hall.

Smiling, she made her way to the Headmistress' chambers.

"Hermione! How good to see you. Come in, come in…" greeted Minerva.

"Sit yourself down, girl, and tell me what you've been about. The house elves will have dinner up shortly. Fancy a drink?"

Sipping from her glass of whisky, Hermione allowed herself to bask in the glow of Minerva's hospitality.

"So, how are things with your current (ahem) project going?" Minerva opened.

"Very well," replied Hermione. "We've made progress on the first front. He actually signed the papers. I'm relieved, yet believe it's a tentative victory. I do not feel that I've heard the last of Ron."

"Or Molly, for that matter." frowned Minerva.

"Yes." sighed Hermione.

"Precisely. We all know that boy can't tell his head from his arse most days. We know Molly will be the one to counter here. It pays to be prepared, my dear. Know your enemies, keep them close, and remember the greatest weapon against an enemy is another enemy. You're going to need to keep one step ahead in this little game, my girl."

"Gasp," said Hermione, feigning indignation," Are you implying, O Great Gryffindor Matriarch, that we employ Slytherin tactics?"

"Hell, yes. And you know I'm right, too, so don't get cheeky." smirked Minerva.

They passed a happy few hours eating, and catching up in general, when their topics shifted again to the present.

"Forgive me, I've been so tied up in my own business, Minerva. Tell me, how are you holding up this year?"

"I'll tell you. I don't know how Albus did this for so many years, and in the midst of two wars. My biggest problem, as you know, has been finding an adequate teaching staff. I need to fill positions, and I'm afraid I'll spend my summer here, conducting interviews."

"In fact," continued Minerva, "I have a proposition for you. As you know, the students will be on summer leave in two weeks. Irma has requested the summer off. The library, however, needs to be maintained. We have a rather large shipment expected in a fortnight that will need to be catalogued and shelved. There are, in addition, all the usual summer duties. I was going to have to hire someone, but if you'd like the job, it's yours."

Hermione could not doubt Minerva's sincerity, but her mind was racing.

_This kind of feels like a hand out, but this could provide me with some experience. I could leave my dead-end job, and have the summer to try to figure out what to do next. If I didn't have to pay room and board, I could save some money for my own place. I could keep out of the public eye for a bit, and that could be to my benefit, as well._

Minerva kept a shrewd eye on Hermione, and interjected, as if she could read her thoughts.

"Actually, Hermione, I could use the company. I'm needed here anyway, and it would be nice for us to catch up, now that I will have no vacation to speak of."

That was the argument that tipped the scales in Minerva's favor.

"I'll tender my resignation in the morning. Thanks Minerva. I'll be staying at the Leaky Cauldron while I finish my time at St. Mungo's."

"That will do nicely." Minerva smiled, resting a hand on Hermione's knee. "I'll have the elves ready your rooms, and you can start flooing over your possessions by tomorrow."

"Thanks, Minerva." Hermione said, her eyes overly-bright.

"Tosh. Now, I'll not have you leaving at this hour. Stay the night here. Come, let's have another drink."

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A/N:

Love it? Hate it? Leave a review and let me know!

~FS


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Jo. I own nothing. Do not sue.

**Chapter 19**

First light found Minerva and Hermione, once again, ensconced in the Headmistress' quarters.

Minerva happily ate a buttered scone, and sipped her strong tea while Hermione availed herself to Minerva's writing desk.

Looking up from her letter of resignation, Hermione smiled at the cozy feeling of domesticity that the chambers afforded. She was looking forward to the summer.

"Today's issue of the Prophet should be here presently." announced Minerva.

Hermione steeled herself as, even then, she saw the delivery owl swoop down with its daily.

Minerva watched pensively as Hermione reached for the paper.

A multitude of emotions crossed the younger witch's countenance, as she read the article, and finally rested on a look of volcanic rage.

Hermione's bushy hair was nearly standing on end, and the air crackled with her latent magic.

"How dare they!" she screamed.

"I'll hunt down the editor of this scandal rag and Hex. His. Bits. Off." Hermione seethed, throwing the paper towards Minerva.

"Read that pile of rubbish before I Incendio it."

Unfolding the paper, Minerva read the bold headline.

dpdpdpdpdpdpdpdpdpdpdpdpdpdpdppdpdpdpdpdpdpdpdpdpdpdpdpdpdpdpdpdpdpd

**Quidditch Groupie Granger Files for Divorce **

By Senior Correspondent Betty Braithwaite

According to public records, Hermione Weasley has filed for an Official Divorce Decree from her husband, Ronald Bilius Weasley, of nine years.

Both veterans of the Wizarding War Against Tom Riddle, the couple were married shortly after the Victory Celebrations.

Ronald, age 28, played keeper for the Chudley Cannons Quidditch team, for three seasons; he is now a free agent. Hermione, whose age is listed as 31 years, is a Potioneer at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. They maintain a flat in London.

Ronald Weasley was unavailable for comment. Molly Weasley, his mother, has issued the following statement on behalf of the Weasley family.

"We just don't understand. We're devastated. She was our family, is our family, how could she do this us? Ron has loved her desperately since his sixth year. He is devastated. How she could trample his heart, well, it pains me. Hermione, honey, if you're reading this, we just want to know what we've done to make you turn away from us. All we've ever wanted is for you to be happy."

As shocking as this news obviously is, dear readers, we must take a closer look.

Wizarding divorces are unheard of; however, the Ronald Weasleys married in a non-binding muggle type ceremony, at the bride's insistence. In light of recent events, one can only wonder if this was her rationale from the onset of the nuptials.

Hermione Weasley nee Granger has left a trail of heartbreak in her wake. Her long history started with the famous Harry Potter. She quickly catapulted into a public affair with Bulgarian Quidditch star, Victor Krum. Following Krum, she paraded through a relationship with Cormac McLaggen, before closing with Weasley. How she found the time to be so socially active during her years as a student, with war constantly looming, is impossible to tell.

Who will be the next in her long line of lovers? Let any she approach beware, for you could be the next notch in her broomstick.

For an in depth article on the history of the Weasley family and their contributions to the wizarding world, please turn to page three of this publication.

dpdpdpdpdpdpdpdpdpdpdpdpdpdpdpdpdpdpdpdpdpdpdpdpdpdpdpdpdpdpdpd

Two large pictures of the couple graced the pages as well. The first was of the wedding day, a smiling Ron and Hermione waving to the camera. The other, a shot at last year's Victory Celebration – a rather unflattering pose of the couple – each standing on either side of Harry. Minerva remembered that night. The pair had been fighting. Ron was drinking and flirting with several adoring witches. After Hermione confronted him regarding his humiliating behavior, they argued. Hermione was able to slip out discreetly sometime later.

Even though quite the opposite was true, Minerva hated to admit, the article did make Ron look like the victimized husband.

Hermione was glaring into her empty tea cup, lost in thought. _What the hell…. Free agent?!? That's the new lingo for unemployed?_

_Great._

That speech, delivered with a forked tongue, had just succeeded in making her look like a heartless, wanton bitch - first class. Those words of Molly's were as sincere as Dolores Umbridge's love for the centaurs. Actually, her campaign was probably going to achieve its objective. Hermione would be spurned as one who refused to uphold respectable wizarding ideals. If she did not reconcile with Ron she would forever be branded the self-serving harlot who took advantage of a loving family.

Hermione started to laugh manically.

The irony was, at this point, if she returned, she'd forever be punished.

Hermione knew she would never reconcile with Ron.

It was, however, alarmingly clear that she was buggered.

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A/N:

Poor Hermione.

Sometimes, you just want to give Molly a good b-slap, don't you?

Review please!


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Jo. I own nothing. Do not sue.

**Chapter 20**

Hermione stepped up to her potions station, among the whispers and stares of several co-workers.

She was ever so glad she would have the summer to work at Hogwarts.

Hopefully, after a bit, the scandal of her divorce would die down, and she could begin to look for gainful employment.

With these thoughts preoccupying her, she failed to notice that the activity in the lab and adjoining offices had increased exponentially as the day neared noon.

Just before her lunch break, Hermione was called into the office of her superior, Marcus Graham.

Judging by the look on his face, this was not a friendly chat.

"What can I do for you, Marcus?" Hermione asked as she stepped into his office and closed the door.

"Well, most pressing, this is yours." He replied calmly while handing her a red envelope.

A howler.

"Oh, gods. I am so sorry!" Hermione fumbled with the envelope. "Please excuse me."

She opened the howler.

The shrill voice of a rather irate witch echoed through the tiny office.

"You filthy tramp! How dare you treat that dear boy so badly. You're a poor excuse for a witch, Missy! The Weasleys are a wonderful family. I hope you get what you have coming to you, and settle on a loser who will break your heart next! If you ask me, that boy is well rid of you!"

Red-faced, Hermione turned to her boss. "I am so sorry, Marcus."

He held up his hand to prevent her further explanation.

"Actually, Hermione, these are yours as well."

He held out a satchel full of mail.

She groaned, sure it was more post of the same nature.

They both stood silently for a minute, each dreading the conversation to come. They had a rather amicable working relationship, and mutually did not want to compromise that with any misplaced words.

Hermione was the first to break the silence.

"If it helps, I have this for you." She said, handing him her letter of resignation.

Scanning the communication, he asked delicately, "Is this connected to your divorce?"

He asked frankly, and she appreciated his sincerity and friendly concern.

"Not directly, no. To be honest, I had another offer and I jumped at it. You know I've needed a change of pace for a while."

He smiled, knowing it was the truth.

"If I could speak candidly, Hermione, I'll level with you. The powers-that-be hate this kind of negative publicity. They want me to broom you now. I argued as much as I reasonably could. But presently, knowing that you want to leave anyway, I can give you the rest of the day off, you can rewrite this letter, and I can give you a month's severance pay."

"A month's worth?"

"They wanted me to give you two weeks. I'll tell them you promised to leave without a fuss for a full month's pay." he smiled.

"Marcus, you're a genius." she laughed.

"Which is undoubtedly why I find myself employed in this lovely establishment." he replied wryly.

"Thanks, Marcus," she smiled, giving him a friendly hug.

"If I can do anything else for you, let me know. Take care of yourself, Hermione."

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A/N:

Looks like things aren't going so well for our girl, doesn't it? She has a lot to sort out, but she's a strong lass.

Reviews, Please!


	21. Chapter 21

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Jo. I own nothing. Do not sue.

**Chapter 21**

Hermione Apparated to a secure point outside her flat. Walking in the door, she let out a breath she'd been holding. Luckily, Ron was not in.

She started packing up her bedroom.

It looked as if nothing had been touched since she left the other day.

She quickly got to work, shrinking and putting her clothes in her trunk and all her other belongings in another box.

During this process, she was interrupted several times by hooting owls.

_Damn post. _

_I cannot take much more of this - another week of this and I'll be committed to St. Mungo's Janus Thickey Ward. _

Hermione began flooing her belongings to her new chambers at Hogwarts.

She did not return to London, however.

Hermione decided she would be better off at The Three Broomsticks. Diagon Alley was so crowded and she had no need to return to St. Mungo's.

Hermione had no intention of drawing unwarranted attention to herself for the next few days.

After Apparating to Hogsmead, Hermione's first stop was the Owl Office.

She requested a private, secure post box. She had to pay extra for additional protective wards to be set on the box. In addition, she charmed the box, and requested they destroy any and all anonymous posts and packages. She figured she might get a few signed missives, but hoped none would be foolish enough to send her a jinxed or poisoned letter with their names attached.

Apparently, scanning her mail before opening it was, once again, a practice she would adopt.

After purchasing a rather large box of assorted Honeyduke's Finest Chocolates and a bottle of dessert wine, she met up with Madame Rosmerta a while later.

"If my staying over will be any problem for you and your business, I'm sure I could find lodging at the Hog's Head," Hermione offered.

"Nonsense!" Rosmerta asserted, "I'll gladly put you up for a fortnight, and any other time you need it. I'm right proud to know you, Hermione, and I admire you for doing what you feel is right. You'll always be welcome here. If you ask me, Ron is a dunderhead."

_Oh._

Hermione startled.

_Dunderhead._

_You know, it's the funniest things that set me off. _

_Why do I think about him, even after all this time? What the hell? Just one word, and I'm transported back ten years, mystified by my old professor. _

_Hermione, my girl, you are a messed up unit. _

"Hermione, are you OK?"

_Oh my gods! How weird did I look just now? Good for me no one here is an occlumens. I'd have that bed in St. Mungo's faster than I'd planned._

"Yes, I'm sorry. I'll take my things up to the room now." She smiled.

The room was clean and nicely furnished. A double bed graced the far wall. A large hearth with two armchairs and a coffee table in front of it comprised a small sitting area. The room also sported a petite bureau, a corner desk, and a private bath. It was perfect.

Trying to erase the thread of her latest thoughts, Hermione sat at the desk. She penned a several letters.

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Dear Minerva,

Change of plans - I'm staying with Rosmerta at The Three Broomsticks. I've left St. Mungo's with quite an acceptable severance. Been busy packing and luckily I haven't run into anyone unpleasant. Could we arrange dinner some evening?

Yours,

Hermione

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Dear Harry and Ginny,

I hope you are at least reading this letter, and that it has not found its way to the nearest rubbish bin or fireplace.

I understand fully if you are upset with me, but hope you give me a chance to at least explain things from my point of view.

I know I have not always confided in you as a sister, Ginny, and that recent events may have come as a surprise. For that, I apologize.

Harry, I know you have encouraged me in the past in my relationship with Ron. I am thankful for your kind support, but found that I could no longer persevere in a relationship that was so one-sided.

Please know that I write these things to you, not to criticize Ron, but I feel as his family you should know the truth.

For the latter half of my marriage, I have become increasingly miserable. I still held a great deal of sentiment towards Ronald and, until very recently, had always tried to get him to see the good in himself.

You see, I believe, that was the stem of our problems. Not all of them, but at the root, I believe this fact is paramount. As you know, after Ron was cut from the Cannons, now seven years past, he was depressed. I believe he has never really recovered that blow to his ego. He became increasingly withdrawn and moody. Nothing I could do could seem to bring him around. He refused to accept any job offered him by Arthur at the ministry, and eventually stopped looking for work altogether. Believe me, nagging him just made it all worse. I was afraid of pushing him. I felt if I just "loved him through it" he would eventually recover, and we could continue on our merry way. I have tried everything I know to convince him that he is worth something. Please believe me that I have given the relationship everything I have to give. I just have nothing left.

As the years passed, I fell into a quiet resignation. I never stopped trying to get Ron to see his merit, but I have come to appreciate that I cannot do that for him. It is up to Ron to want to accept and grow. As time went on, we drifted apart.

At this point, there is such a distance between us, that his absence in my life is barely noticeable. A sad truth, but true nonetheless.

I wish him all the best in his future endeavors. Know that, for my part, I still love you and desire relationship between us. Please correspond.

My best,

Hermione

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After she read through the letter at least six times, Hermione knew it was as good as it could be. It was not a pleasant missive, but it was sincere. It was honest enough to suit her principles, yet hopefully self deprecating enough to satisfy the Weasleys. Opening with a preventative self-disclosure was the quickest way to get them to listen; she was hoping, in this instance, it would work.

Hermione had no way of divining how the news of her divorce would be met by her friends. Certainly anyone who knew her well could tell they were ill-suited. Ginny _was _a bit bossy, and took after too many of Molly's undesirable traits for Hermione's tastes. Harry was one of her oldest friends, and although the demands of his family prevented them from spending much time together, she still valued his friendship.

She had one more letter to write before she could stop for the night.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to compose her thoughts and began.

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Ronald,

As you know, our paperwork was filed with the ministry yesterday. We need to discuss what to do with our shared possessions.

I have made living arrangements for myself, and do not wish to maintain the flat. You may take over the lease in its entirety if you wish to stay there. If you'd let me know what your intentions are, we can plan accordingly.

I await your owl.

Sincerely,

Hermione

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_There. _

_I hope that is firm enough, yet kind. The last thing I need is an angry Ron. Not while he has the prerogative to contest this divorce. That said, I absolutely will not let him loaf around that flat while I foot the bill!_

_At least that's done._

Downstairs, the bar area was not yet full of its regular nighttime customers. She placed a dinner order to be sent to her room.

Summoning three owls, she sent her post winging off into the dimming light.

Hermione did not even realize how hungry she was until dinner was sent to her room. She finished the chicken pot pie in its entirety before turning to the mouth-watering cheesecake Rosmerta sent up.

Hermione opened her dessert wine to enjoy with the cheesecake. She took her time, enjoying the warmth of the fire, but was too tired to think much. It felt good to turn off her thoughts for a while.

Lulled by the wine and good food, Hermione fell into a deep sleep.

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A/N:

This chapter is dedicated to Nutters4Potter - my 50th review! Thanks so much. I love reading my reviews. They make such a difference. Thank you all!!!

These chapters keep getting longer and longer. I can't help myself!

So what did you think of the letter to Harry and Ginny?

I think that if Hermione had her way, she'd choose not to alienate Harry completely. I don't think the poor girl is very optimistic. She's holding her own, however. Let's see what happens next. Review Please!

~FS


	22. Chapter 22

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Jo. I own nothing. Do not sue.

**Chapter 22**

It was hard for Hermione to believe that it had already been a month since the Leaving Feast.

Life was starting to settle, and she had accomplished much in the past six weeks.

Although she was reasonably busy, Hermione enjoyed her two weeks of down time before returning to Hogwarts.

She was able to finish packing her belongings, her potions equipment, and the rest of her books. She took time to settle her new quarters.

Ron took the furniture and most of the household goods. Hermione was glad of it. Most of their joint possessions came as wedding gifts from his family and their mutual friends. Hermione did not want any material assets to become a bone of contention between them.

Ron moved back home to the Burrow. Molly was, undoubtedly, beside herself with joy, pampering her little boy again. All in all, Hermione decided this was a good thing. Anything that distracted them from her and her business was a bonus.

She had yet to hear from Harry or Ginny.

Her duties at the library were not too taxing, and she definitely enjoyed the time spent with Minerva.

St. Mungo's was notorious for not leaving their employees much leisure time. Hermione took this time alone doing little things for herself. She had never really had the opportunity to indulge herself before.

Hermione never realized her job and failing marriage had taken up so much of her time.

There were several books she'd always wanted to read, but never found the time. She'd taken to reading them when not spending her evenings with Minerva.

Several times, she and Minerva had lunch and went shopping in Diagon Alley or Muggle London.

It was after the first of these outings that Hermione realized how much she missed her own mother. Shortly after, she went to visit her parent's gravesite.

_Mom, you were taken from me too soon. You still had so much to teach me. We had unfinished business. _

Tears coursed down the young witch's face. It had been difficult for Hermione to lose her mother while on the brink of womanhood. She couldn't believe it had been eleven years.

It was a difficult time to remember. She was left with no sisters, and no close girlfriends to speak of. She certainly had not been the type to ask Lavender or Parvati for advice. She was beginning her relationship with Ron, and she had no idea what she was doing.

Hermione and Minerva had grown quite close during the younger witch's apprenticeship, and Minerva's teaching included much more than the Art of Transfigurations.

During her stay at Hogwarts, Minerva had, once again, become Hermione's closest friend and confidant.

It was during this time, as well, that Hermione found another close female friend.

During the last year of the war, Hermione forged a friendship with Nymphadora Tonks. Barring Dora's clumsiness, they actually had a lot in common. Dora was quite a determined and driven witch, and it was nice to talk to someone else who had a little Muggle in them.

Hermione always thought fondly of her and Remus. They had expressed concern for both her and Ron after he was cut from the Cannons. Their concern was not appreciated by Ron, and it became easier for Hermione to distance herself from them than to put up with Ron's petty tantrums.

Letting go of that relationship was a regret Hermione carried for the past six years. She felt guilty, but she had lived in "survivor-mode" and could not think of much else save the day-to-day details that maintained their façade of marital harmony.

Her Gryffindor courage had indeed deserted her when it came to contacting them again. Hermione wasn't sure how deep the rift in their friendship was, and was finding it difficult to make the first step towards repairing it.

One afternoon, Minerva announced that they would be receiving special guests at dinner that evening.

Walking into the Headmistress' chambers, one could not help but notice the house elves had gone all out. A beautiful fruit sculpture was placed in the center of the table, and the table was obviously set for company.

Hermione heard the tinkle of a familiar laugh from the corner.

There stood Minerva with Remus and Dora.

"Hermione!" beamed Nymphadora, "Don't just stand there. You look positively gob-smacked. Give me a hug!"

As she wrapped Hermione in a tight hug, Dora whispered in her ear, "I've missed you, girl."

Both witches were crying as Hermione turned to Remus for a hug as well.

"Enough tears. Tonight is for celebrating!" announced Minerva.

After a delicious meal, many bottles of Hogwart's finely aged scotch, and some curative conversation, it was as if they never parted.

The years melted away, and their time of separation became a thing of the past. It was lovely, and Hermione cherished the moments she spent with her closest friends.

As Hermione was cataloguing one morning, an elf popped into existence with a note from the Headmistress.

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H-

Ladies Lunch Out! Meet on front steps at 11:30.

-M

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"Please let the Headmistress know I'll be there. Thank you." replied Hermione.

With a snap, the elf was gone.

Hermione looked at what she was wearing. She was dusty from reshelving all morning. Her hair needed a little help, too.

She had no idea if they would be out among Muggles or wizards. Better to err on the side of conservative.

A sharp pair of Khakis and a sleeveless tailored white blouse under a set of wizarding robes would do nicely. She charmed her hair into some manageable curls, and after a light application of mascara and lip gloss, Hermione was nearly ready. She donned a pair of sandals with a small heel, and grabbed a matching purse. She admired her freshly painted toenails peeking out from the open toed sandals.

Hermione was somewhat startled to admit she enjoyed taking care of herself. Every Wednesday, she took some time to perform what she liked to call "bodily maintenance", usually consisting of a manicure, pedicure, and facial.

She certainly liked the results. It was a relatively small amount of time Hermione spent doing these weekly rituals, yet they made her feel different. For the first in remembrance, Hermione was putting herself first, even if it were only for that minute window of time. The balance in her life was refreshing and she found she enjoyed getting in touch with her more feminine side.

These were Hermione's musings as she made her way to the front steps. Minerva was waiting, and Dora - sporting short, spiky, black hair - completed their trio. The way her friends were grinning, Hermione felt as if she'd walked into an ambush.

"What do you two crones have planned?" Hermone asked, "Don't even try to deny it, I can see it plainly on your faces."

"She's sussed us out, Dora." grinned Minerva.

"Well, Hermione, I hope you're not brewing any potions that will need your attention for the rest of the day, because we're taking you out for some serious shopping!" Dora exclaimed. "Don't worry, love, you're going to have a ball. Let's just get to lunch."

Their meal was lovely. A light salad and glazed orange rolls paired with a beautiful chardonnay. The three friends laughed and reminisced about old times.

"Hermione, do you remember when I pulled you aside in your seventh year?" Dora began.

"Are you referring to the 'Hermione, you_ are a woman_, please stop trudging around the castle like a farmer - let me show you how it's done' intervention?" laughed the youngest witch.

"Right in one." Giggled Dora. "Since we've become friends, I've felt duty bound as your honorary sister to educate you in the ways of the witch."

Hermione brightened, "Good, that's just what I need. I have no idea what I'm doing."

"Well, dear, we're not experts, but we'll tell you what works for us. Prepare to leave your comfort zone." purred Minerva patting Hermione's hand.

Equal parts apprehension and excitement, Hermione followed the other two witches into the street.

"First things first," explained Dora, "I've taken the liberty of making an appointment for you at 'Aphrodite' – the new hair salon. Now, before you get your knickers in a twist, remember, you have a metamorphmagus along, so if you're not sure of something, I'll just shift into you and model the style so you can be sure."

Dora reassured, "For the record, I love your hair. It's perfect, its got a lot of body, but you can straighten it if you need to. I love the curls. I wouldn't recommend anything too short or drastic. However, if you take off some of the dead weight, it may be easier to manage."

_It is true, _Hermione mused._ I remember how much better Luna looked when she took about eight inches off, and evened things up. She was stunning. _

"OK, let's do it."

Hermione couldn't pull her eyes off her reflection in the mirror.

"You look fabulous!" beamed Minerva.

Hermione's hair fell in beautiful curls down to the bottom of her shoulder blades. The stylist gave her an intense conditioning treatment and cut some long layers into her hair. The result was magic – no bushy mare's nest hair, just a tumble of bouncy, shiny curls.

Leaving with the instructions for brewing the conditioning potion and a promise to follow up in eight weeks, Hermione thanked the stylist profusely.

"Lesson one," intoned Dora, "Keep your appointment. I know you'll be tempted to skip it, thinking it's unnecessary or extravagant." Dora searched her friends face and met her eyes, "Really, Hermione. Getting your hair cut six times a year is not a big deal. It's normal maintenance. Besides, first and foremost, _you deserve it_." She emphasized these last three words, begging Hermione to understand her deeper meaning.

"Next we work on clothes - starting what's closest to your skin. No one can doubt your brilliance Hermione; however, you need to be educated in the wearing of foundational garments." Minerva professed.

"I've always maintained that one key to a witch's confidence is her being comfortable in her own skin. Sometimes it's not the dress robes, but what the witch wears underneath that give her assurance."

"I've never owned any real lingerie before." admitted Hermione, blushing. "Ron always said such things were for scarlet women."

"Ron is a freaking _imbecile_!" Dora seethed.

"Indeed," stated Minerva calmly. "His statements perfectly illustrate the point I'm trying to make. Now, I'm not saying it's not nice or fun to wear a racy outfit for your husband or lover. I do hope you get to the point that you're shopping for that reason. However, that is not the basis for our presence here today.

Many women misunderstand. This is not something a witch should do for others, but for herself. There is nothing wrong with wanting to have proper underthings that are attractive as well as functional. Consider it an expression of your femininity."

Minerva continued on in her gentle instruction all the way to Ferrars – the Shop for Today's Witch.

Once inside, Hermione was overwhelmed.

Never had she seen such a collection. The shop was full of so many beautiful, soft, lacy, silky, wondrously feminine things. There were so many colors – articles available in every shade and hue from pearl whites to champagne, blushing pinks to scarlet, crimson, and coral, soft greens to vibrant emerald, icy blues to deepest sapphire.

A very distinguished looking witch came over to assist them.

Noticing Hermione's evident inexperience as she gazed at the different items, she asked the group, "Are we looking at purchasing a bridal trousseau, perhaps?"

"Not exactly." Hermione stiffened. She was blushing furiously.

Minerva pulled her off to the side. "My dear, this is nothing to be discomfited about. How are you to know of these things? No one was here to teach you. I consider it a personal shortcoming on my part that I mean to rectify immediately. I am sorry I failed you."

"Madam, we do require your assistance." continued Minerva.

Yes, Ma'am." Hermione picked up, "I am in need of appropriate garments for all occasions. I do not have much experience in this area, and would welcome your professional opinion, as well as the advice of my dear friends."

Minerva and Dora shared a smirk. This was their girl. Hermione was back.

"Very good. Let's start with the basics, shall we?"

Hermione felt as she had never changed her clothes so many times in her life.

The matronly assistant measured Hermione for a properly fitting brassiere. She found a nice bra that met all her criteria. It was an underwire style, so she had enough support, was comfortable, and was soft and lacy. She felt wonderful, confident, and feminine. She added knickers to match. Hermone picked out ensembles in pale pink, champagne, black, white, emerald green, gold, coral, and a soft blue. They all flattered her skin tone beautifully.

She purchased slips - full and half slips in assorted lengths, along with matching camisoles. Sleepwear was purchased next. Hermione bought several sets of pajamas, chemises with matching dressing gowns, and a new pair of slippers.

Hermione shopped for hosiery as well. Trouser socks, knee highs, thigh high stockings, pantyhose, and tights all found their way into her basket. She even indulged in a garter belt with a set of real silk stockings.

She purchased a few accessories, as well. An adequate number of handkerchiefs and several scarves were added to the quantity.

After purchases were boxed and galleons exchanged, the weary trio Apparated into Hogsmead, where they parted company.

Remus met Dora at The Three Broomsticks for dinner while Hermione and Minerva made their way back to the castle.

Hermione gave Minerva a warm embrace. "Thank you." she whispered, "For everything."

"You're most welcome, love."

Nothing else need be said.

As Minerva watched Hermione climb the stairs to her quarters, she smiled. Things were looking up for her girl.

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A/N:

Anyone else want to go shopping?

Coming soon: the introduction of Severus to the tale!

Please review!

Many thanks go out to zule bean for her review. I wrongly listed Tonks as a Gryffindor in an early version of this chapter. She is indeed a Hufflepuff. X

Oh, yeah, and she and Remus are not dead.


	23. Chapter 23

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Jo. I own nothing. Do not sue.

**Chapter 23**

Hermione was well insulated at Hogwarts, a fact that became glaringly obvious whenever she ventured far from its borders.

Fortunately, she was rarely given a second glance in Hogsmead, where she was a regular patron of several shops and the local farmer's market. Hermione was grateful for this kindness, as she was all too aware that the sway of public opinion was not in her favor.

The Prophet continued with their salacious articles. Hermione was embarrassed by all the attention and innuendo that seemed to follow her. However, her emotions were quite beside the point. Her newfound celebrity was having a detrimental affect on her finding suitable employment.

The narrow-mindedness of the wizarding populace was discouraging to Hermione. She had absolutely no desire to venture into the Muggle workforce. Schooling, credentials, references, and identification were all issues she did not need to deal with. After the death of her parents, her contact with the Muggle world became particularly limited, as Hermione preferred.

Unfortunately, this narrow-mindedness included the illustrious Board of Governors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She would never put Minerva in a position in which her judgment would be questioned. The school was still recovering from the trauma of the war and was still somewhat vulnerable. Hermione doubted Hogwarts could survive the constant scrutiny that a full scale scandal would subject it to.

In addition, she was not without two leads for employment in the Hogsmead community. There was a need for a part-time clerk in Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop, the other opportunity lay in the maintenance department of the Owl Post Office. Hermione deliberated her choices.

_Namely, I could work selling quills and stationery part time, or pick up owl crap full time. Who the hell am I kidding? Your pickings are slim, girl._

_I've basically been blackballed in Diagon Alley. _

_Damn Weasleys._

_I could go through the private duty sector. I could work as a personal assistant, or even in food service, or garment making. _

_What the hell am I talking about? _

_I know I could move to another wizarding community, but I would be leaving everyone I care about. _

_Maybe before the war, that would have been an option, but not now. _

_For as long as they're living, I'll not leave those I love again. _

_Yes, relationships are more important to me than fame, travel, or education. Maybe I have learned something in the past ten years. _

_Besides, I really like Hogsmead._

Because Hermione was Hermione she read everything. As a student, she read about the history of the all-wizarding village; its history fascinated her. She studied the diary of Hengist of Woodcroft, the founder of Hogsmead, and had read the tales of its local history and customs. She had, indeed, fallen in love with Hogsmead.

The small village was somewhat of an oddity. There were many seasonal inhabitants and visitors, but the permanent residents formed a protective, close-knit community. Many people passed through the village on 'school business' as the locals called it. Some area industries depended on the school and its residents for their prosperity. Zonko's and Madame Puddifoot's especially catered to their undergraduate clientele.

Although augmented by the presence of the school, the majority of the village remained self sufficient. Enhancement of sound local economies was encouraged however, and bartering goods and services was commonplace among the locals. The fact that Hermione found herself accepted by the permanent residents of Hogsmead humbled and, originally, surprised her.

She was loathe to leave the welcoming feelings she had come to associate with Hogsmead in the summertime.

_Admit it Hermione, you're willing to shovel owl shit in order to feel you belong somewhere. _

Although this thought, in the past, would have repulsed her, it did not.

She accepted that the choice to be happy was _her choice_.

Bolstered by her acceptance of the situation, Hermione was happy to have the rest of the summer to figure out her particulars.

oooOOOooo

A pop to her left startled Hermione.

She should be used to the house elves suddenly popping into existence, but sometimes it still surprised her. The elf handed her a note from Minerva.

Disappointed that Minerva would not be able to meet her in Diagon Alley until the afternoon, she penned her reply. Meeting with Minerva for tea in the Leaky Cauldron would have to do.

Her time in Diagon Alley passed, mercifully, without incident.

Hermione had several errands to run.

Her stop at Gringotts was efficient.

Her peruse in Flourish and Blott's was enjoyable.

She passed by Quidditch Quality Supplies and repressed the urge to stick out her tongue.

She repressed the urge to make an even more obscene gesture towards the offices of The Daily Prophet.

Her stop at Madam Malkin's was tedious.

She was about to consider her visit to the Apothecary uneventful, until…

She spied the ad.

Posted on the community bulletin board was the following classified:

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Part –Time Subordinate Needed

Monday, Wednesday, Friday

Preparing General Potions Ingredients with precision

Applicant expected to work three days straight shift

approaching mid-synodic cycle.

Anyone scoring below E on Potions NEWT

Need not apply.

Kindly owl box 213 Hogsmead Village to arrange appointment for interview.

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Her breath caught.

Although obviously penned with a Dicto-quill, that advert had Severus Snape written all over it.

_I can hear him saying every word._

_I can almost see this posted in his cramped, spiky scrawl._

_If he didn't author this I'll eat McGonagall's favorite tartan hat. _

Hermione grabbed the note from the board. Clutching it protectively to her chest, she hurried out of the Apothecary with her purchases.

Waiting on Minerva for tea, Hermione deliberated whether to show her the advert or not.

Sometimes, when she was confused about what to do, Hermione would imagine the worst case scenario to the given situation. Once she realized, most times, that she could – if necessary – live with the worst, her decision became easier to make.

She set out to logically make her decision in her usual way.

_Delemma: to show this to Minerva and ask her if she believes Snape is the originator, or keep it to myself._

_If I kept it to myself, what could be the end results? I'd answer the ad, and find out yes, or no. If it is him, would I want the job? More importantly, would I want the job if it isn't him?_

_What!?! Where did that come from?_

_OK, back to square one. _

_Do I want this job?_

_Yes. If the employer were reasonable, I could find this job acceptable. I could take the part time position at Scrivenshaft's and be self-reliant. _

_So she knew she wanted the position. Why was she anxious?_

_Was she afraid Minerva would judge her? Maybe. She didn't want Minerva to think she was foolish; or, worse, caught up in some infantile fantasy about toiling earnestly, ardently, alongside Severus Snape. _

It hit her.

Did she think Minerva would think this, or did Hermione herself harbor these suspicions?

_Well, sometimes these revelations are a little humiliating._

However, as Socrates says, "The unexamined life is not worth living."

_OK, so what I'm admitting is that I want this to be a chance to work with Severus Snape. _

_I want to work with Severus Snape?_

_I want to toil, earnestly, ardently, alongside Severus Snape?_

_Gods, yes._

_Damn. _

_OK - worst case scenario, I am a foolish, deluded, fantasizing little girl. Can I live with this? Since it seems to be the reality of the situation, I have little choice. _

_Yes, my dream job is to work with Severus Snape. _

There were few great Potions Masters in the world, and fewer still in Britain. She only knew one of them, and considered herself privileged to have been under his tutelage at one time.

Now he seemed nothing more than a recluse.

The end of the war did not appear to have changed Severus Snape much. In fact, he still lived as if he had a flashing neon sign above his head that read "Leave me the hell alone!"

That brief image of the brooding potions master with said accessory brought a smile to her lips.

_Well, better to laugh than to cry. _

Those were thoughts better left alone.

_Stupid, Hermione. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. _

She had thought at one time that she would like to get to know him better.

She clamped down on any of those feelings, and chided herself for being so foolish.

Too much water had flowed underneath that bridge, which had long since been burned.

_It was a stupid wish, a fruitless desire. _

It wasn't like she was harboring a secret crush on him for all these years, really.

It was mostly that he fascinated her, and she had hoped that after the war, she would have a chance to get to know him on a more personal level.

His brilliance was really what attracted her to him. She respected him as a professor and a fellow member of the Order. She thought they could form a friendship.

_Could I have possibly been more naïve?_

However, he couldn't have told her more plainly that he was in no need of companionship.

After all he had done for everyone else in the war, she felt the best way she could honor him was to respect his one simple wish.

_This is just too much to think about right now. _

_Deep breath._

_Smile._

Tucking the advert into a deep pocket in her robes, Hermione was able to compose herself and enjoy the afternoon tea with Minerva.

When they returned to Hogwarts, Hermione sat in her chambers.

After making her decision, she summoned an owl.

Standing in her window, Hermione watched the owl winging its way off toward Hogsmead. Its wings mirrored silver in the moonlight - her Curriculum Vitae tied firmly to its leg.

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A/N:

Sorry it has taken me so long to update. I've been mercilessly ill.

Review please!

Up next: a little splash of Severus Snape!


	24. Chapter 24

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Jo. I own nothing. Do not sue.

**Chapter 24**

As Hermione stepped out of the shower, she was met by an unearthly screech coming from the direction of her sitting room.

Rushing out, in only a towel, she stopped short at the sight before her.

Nelly, the house elf assigned to her quarters, was wrestling with a large Rock Eagle-owl.

The elf was obviously trying to take a scroll from the bird but it was putting up a fearsome fight.

"Nelly!"

"Let go this instant." Hermione cried

Immediately the elf released the owl, and started flogging herself around the head and ears with a duster.

"Nelly, calm down and stop hitting yourself. Now, I am sure this was a misunderstanding, however, I think our feathered friend would be more at ease if you let him deliver his missive in peace." Hermione smiled.

"Y-yes, miss." With a nod of her head, Nelly obediently popped out of the room.

Looking quite put out, the owl perched near Hermione and stuck out his leg.

"My, you are a formidable bird." Hermione said as she reached for the missive.

The bird continued to stare at her with an air of forbearance.

Slowly, Hermione unwrapped the scroll, and began to read.

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Ms. Granger,

The Curriculum Vitae you submitted has been carefully reviewed, and has been accepted.

A personal consultation will ensure we come to acceptable arrangements for your employment.

I will reserve the noon hour for our meeting today, unless you find yourself otherwise engaged. Regrets only reply.

213 Hawthorne Street, Hogsmead Village

Severus Snape, Potions Master

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Hermione, literally, jumped two feet in the air, clutching the scroll in both hands.

_It was him!_

_Oh Merlin! I can't believe it!_

Towel long forgotten, Hermione did a little happy dance around the room.

The sight of her face passing in front of the mirror atop her bureau made her stop.

Euphoria.

_What is this face? _

Hermione hardly recognized her own features. She was beaming, with the widest, most dazzling smile arranged on her face. Eyes glittering, she radiated pure joy.

Suddenly nervous at her apparent look of disproportionate happiness, she sobered.

She could not refrain from smiling, still.

_Why am I so happy? _

_I'm glad to know he's ok on some level. _

_I am looking forward to seeing him. _

She had not seen him in ten years, and in all likelihood, did not expect to ever see him again.

_I'm relieved he agreed to meet me. _

An abrupt "hoot" shook her out of her reverie.

The owl was still perched on her desk, glaring at her with the most contemptuous look.

Sheepishly, Hermione gathered her towel and offered the owl a treat.

He disdainfully refused.

She tried to regain some semblance of normalcy. "There will be no reply. Thank you." she told the owl as she let him out the window.

Hermione put in a floo-call to the Headmistress asking for the day off.

After reassuring Minerva she was in top health and declining a lunch date, Hermione set about getting dressed.

_OK, Hermione._

_Confidence. _

_Foundational garments, check._

Hermione started with a cream she brewed herself. It was very light and left her skin pleasantly soft and was barely scented with citrus and basil.

It was purposely not overpowering, as she knew Snape's exacting lab standards would not allow perfume of any kind.

Remembering Severus Snape was a man who disliked pretension she applied very little make up. A dusting of powder and a little mascara were fine. Smiling, Hermione pulled a childhood favorite out of her make-up case. Cherry chapstick. Perfect.

Hermione chose an outfit that she hoped would reflect her maturity and intellect, without looking laughably conventional.

Her cream colored belted shirt darted in at the waist and flattered her figure. She paired this with a knee length brown tweed skirt. Practical flats in a dark brown completed the outfit.

Her hair was pulled up in a loose twist atop her head.

Her newest sable-brown wizarding robes flowed open, over this.

The end result was a vision that was equal parts professional, feminine, classical, practical, soft, efficient, intellectual, and warm.

_Perfect. _

Hermione took the time to gather assorted vials of different potions from her personal stores and packed them into her potions case. First aid, medicinal potions, samples of personal care products, preserved herbal tinctures, and a small assortment of ingredients she prepared would hopefully demonstrate her own high standards.

She was a little nervous, but overall felt quite light.

She didn't think her feet touched the ground as she made her way out of the castle.

oooOOOooo

Aside from the fact that it would have been impossible to work in the library after the letter she'd received this morning, Hermione was glad she took the entire day off.

It was a lovely day.

She walked the streets of Hogsmead, and took the sights and sounds of the village.

Aside from High Street – the main street going through Hogsmead - all the streets were named after trees.

As a student, she had rarely, if ever, left the main road. Now she loved acquainting herself with the side-streets, oftentimes encountering a smiling face, a curious child, or a friendly familiar in the assorted gardens.

It was really quite a trek from the castle into the tiny village. This was to Hermione's benefit, as she took the time to think, prepare, and relax before her interview.

On Hermione's route, she had to pass through the entire village to reach the point where, just past Dervish and Banges, High Street intersected Birch and Hawthorne Streets.

Hermione was not terribly familiar with either of these streets as they were past the village proper.

She stood at the intersection.

To her left Birch Street rose up a small swell, low fields and patches of trees comprising the landscape. A small farm was visible from the corner. It seemed peaceful and pleasant. Hermione would remember this for the future, maybe there would be a nice place to picnic further down that road.

To her right, she observed Hawthorne Street. She had no idea Severus Snape was so near all this time. On principle, she made it a point not to pry into his private life, but was delighted to discover he lived near the village she had come to think of with such fondness.

The street was broad and well traveled. Mature trees lined either side, giving it a stately, almost park-like setting. The street, like all in Hogsmead, were made of hard packed clay. Hermione walked down the street, looking for houses or identifying characteristics that might point out her former professor's residence.

There did not appear to be any houses on this particular stretch of road.

Still she walked on, following the road through a large, open clearing and into the next cluster of trees, which lent their shade to the road and cooled it nicely.

It was in the middle of this sparse woodland she came upon the house.

Even if it were not for the marker pronouncing that this was indeed number 213, Hermione would not have doubted it.

It seemed to fit the professor in manner, elegance, and utility.

She was a little surprised she found it so beautiful.

The entire yard was surrounded by a low stone fence. A cobbled walk led the way from the street to the front stoop. The yard was dotted with the same mature trees that lined the street. Hermione noticed a small water pump on the left side of the house.

The house itself was charming, really.

It was a salt box style house, made of wood shake shingles, which had weathered to a deep grey. The trim around all the windows was painted a clean white, and each was flanked by a pair of shutters, painted a brilliant blue. The same color adorned the front door.

It was evident that the house and its premises were carefully, artfully tended.

Hermione believed that if any house could possess a personality, it would be this one; its manner communicated a spirit of quiet industry.

Taking a steadying breath, Hermione employed the brass knocker on the door.

It was answered by a neatly attired house elf.

"Good afternoon, Madam. The Master is expecting you. If you would follow me?"

Hermione was shocked at the elf's demeanor. She collected herself and nodded her head.

_This elf is dressed, is he free? His diction was perfect. What is this?_

Prudently, she filed these questions away in her mind, and tried to clear her thoughts as she entered the house.

She was standing in a small vestibule.

On her right a door was opened into a well appointed sitting room.

The elf turned and signaled for her to remain where she was.

"I'll announce you." He politely informed her, as he passed through a door on her left.

"Thank you," she murmured softly.

Severus stood up as the elf introduced his visitor.

As he met her steadfast gaze for the first time in over ten years, he couldn't help the small gasp that escaped his lips.

He tried to muffle it to sound as if he were clearing this throat.

"Please, have a seat."

"Thank you." Hermione nodded.

As she took her seat, Severus took a moment to appraise her.

Was the woman before him not the same individual he had so often shared a library with at Grimmauld Place? The same he had taught for six years? The same that sat with him in St. Mungo's?

She carried herself confidently, yet not arrogantly. She was a vision. She was also another man's wife.

With these musings, Severus felt an uncomfortable sensation seize him. He was angry, nauseous, and having her here was quickly feeling like a very bad idea.

Slipping into a persona that he'd neglected for over a decade, Severus began quite an artful performance.

"Ah, the illustrious Mrs. Weasly is here.

Come now, surely your dearly devoted husband is doing his best to keep you in the style to which you have so obviously become accustomed?

How is it that you darken my doorstep looking for work?"

"Excuse me?" asked Hemione completely confused. Only a moment ago, she thought things were going fine.

Was this his sick idea of some kind of joke?

That didn't seem to fit. What was going on?

"Surely idiocy is not contagious? Although, I'm willing to reconsider my previous assumptions…" came his caustic answer.

Hermione tried to break in, "Sir? Have you read nothing in The Prophet?"

"I do not interest myself in the lifestyles of the rich and famous."

"If you tried to moderately keep abreast of current events, you'd know I…"

"Still remain unable to close your mouth. Yes, I think I've deduced as much."

Standing up, placing one hand on her hip, the other pointed in his face, Hermione began a rant Minerva could have been proud of.

"OK! Forget it.

It was foolish of me to come.

I really don't know what I was thinking!

I thought… well, what I thought was immaterial.

You, Severus Snape are as puerile as ever, and if I never see your sorry ass again, it will be too soon!"

She turned on her heel too soon to see his startled expression.

_Oh, shit! Sev, old buddy, you've gone too far. She's leaving!_ he panicked, and quickly grabbed his wand.

"Tut, tut… language, Mrs. Weasly." He admonished, surreptitiously warding the door.

"As abysmal as your manners are, you are by far the most qualified for the job.

Although, I find your plight saddening - namely being married to that dunderhead for nearly a decade, it will not excuse you from optimum performance in my lab."

Crossing his arms, he smirked at her from under one archly raised brow.

_There, will she accept the challenge?_

"What do you know of my life?" Hermione practically shrieked, spinning around.

_He'd better hear every word this time! I'm just warming up_.

"If you call me Mrs. Weasley one more time, I'll hex your bits off!

Had you kept your mouth shut for one miserable minute, you would be aware of the fact that I've divorced _that dunderhead_!

Believe me, as undeniably filled with joy as that makes me, my freedom has come with a price tag.

Suffice it to say, that my life sucks right now.

You have no idea.

I am humiliated!

Now, I will have to pay for the rest of my life for one monumentally huge lack of judgment!

A brief period of temporary insanity and my life is set on a course I never would have chosen, had I used my thinking brain!"

She stopped to take a breath, and saw Severus smirking slightly.

She stood, eyes widening in recognition.

Hermione gathered all her remaining Gryffindor courage, and hoping to end her diatribe on a more balanced note, continued, softening.

"Well, actually, you do have an idea, don't you?"

A hopeful smile crinkling her features, she chanced a look at him.

He then did something that Hermione Granger never thought she'd live to see.

He smiled.

It was not a smirk.

It was not a sneer.

It was an authentic smile.

It transformed his face.

It filled Hermione with hope.

"Ms. Granger, would you join me for tea in the sitting room?"

Nodding her acceptance, she allowed him to lead the way.

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A/N:

Well, what did you think?

Review please.

Thanks to all for your best wishes. I see the doctor 4/21 and hopefully will be feeling better.

Next chapter: More dialog - and some SS history. What's he been doing all this time?


	25. Chapter 25

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Jo. I own nothing. Do not sue.

**Chapter 25**

"Ms. Granger, would you join me for tea in the sitting room?"

Nodding her acceptance, she allowed him to lead the way.

Severus led Hermione into the sitting room, offered her a seat upon the sofa, and excused himself to prepare the tea.

_Why the hell did I purposely bait her? What is the matter with me? There is just something about her that gets to me. _

He was asking himself these questions, and had a lot more, but could only cover a few at a time.

Ironically, he did _not_ wonder if he should work with her.

He had hashed out that argument when her application arrived. He knew her capable, without a doubt. They had opportunities to work together for the Order, as well, so he knew they could brew together compatibly.

He had not lied – she was the most qualified applicant.

Perhaps the only applicant suited for the job.

_Why did I provoke her? It's not as if she's ever offended me. _

It bothered him, knowing that was how he acted. She had every right to be confused, he mused. He didn't even know why he was acting so strangely. How could she have ever hurt him?

_By listening to you Severus? _

_By leaving you alone? _

_You were not ready, at that time, for anyone anyway. _

At this point in his life, Severus knew there was nothing to be had for wishing to change the past.

If he did not accept this simple truth, he would have been stuck - condemned - forever looking backwards in a perpetual mirror of Erised.

_No, it is never good thinking about the past for too long._

_Better by far, to concern yourself with the here and now._

For Severus, the here and now consisted of a witch waiting in his sitting room waiting on tea and an apology.

oooOOOooo

Hermione sat back on the firm, yet surprisingly comfortable, sofa and admired the room.

It was decorated simply, yet tastefully.

Under the soft, dark brown rug, she spied the edges of a highly polished wood floor.

The walls were painted a rather attractive shade of warm blue. The use of color surprised Hermione. She had expected something a little more ….reserved, maybe?

_Oh, grow up, Hermione - how much do you even really know about him? _

_His private life? _

_Oh Merlin! Maybe he's married. Just look at this room. He could very well have a lovely wife. _

Swallowing a hint of panic, Hermione took in the rest of her surroundings.

Behind her, she could feel the warm sun filtering in through the sheer white curtains that hung on the two front windows.

The furniture consisted of a sofa and two comfortable chairs, all upholstered in a deep tan suede.

She was facing a very large, open, unlit hearth.

To her left were several pictures on the wall. In the center hung a very interesting painting of a middle aged woman and a young boy. She wondered if it could be the professor as a child. Several other wizarding photographs, in assorted silver and brass frames were arranged on the wall as well.

By far, the most prominent fixture was a tall, floor to ceiling, wall to wall bookcase to her right.

It was filled with neatly arranged texts.

She was too far away to read all but the closest titles.

_Anthology of Eighteenth Century Charms_

_Compendium of Common Curses and Their Counter-Actions_

_Defensive Magical Theory_

_European Anti-Venoms_

He cleared his throat.

She looked up at him, framed in the doorway.

He was dressed as she's seen him so often, in his high buttoned frock coat and pants made of black linen.

Tea tray in hand, he looked so much like she remembered, her heart ached with a longing she didn't quite understand.

She didn't realize until that minute - she had _missed_ him.

Whether his commanding existence in the classroom, his quiet presence at Order meetings, or in the solitary life she imagined he held, he was a constant in her life.

He had become a sign-post, a gauge, against whom she measured others – in matters of brewing, in matters of personal integrity, in duty, in honor.

"You have a wonderful collection of books."

_Good one, Hermione. How stupidly predictable. _

"Thank you."

He sat the tea service down on the table in front of them, and to her surprise, took the seat next to Hermione.

"My apologies, Ms. Granger. What I said before was completely inexcusable."

_Wonderful Severus – how stupidly predictable. Offer the tea… offer the tea…_

He started to pour tea into two delicate cups.

"Of course. My apologies, as well, Master Snape, I don't even know what came over me.

I guess, I just didn't expect you to be …."

"Such a bastard?" he interrupted with a quirk to his lips.

"No, not really -

Wait, I mean…. not that I thought you would be a bastard, of course, it's just that ….um.

Well, I was hoping you were happier, sir."

"Happier?"

"Yes, you know, happy?

Pleased?

Content?

Glad?

Cheerful?"

"I am decidedly not cheerful." he rejoined.

Did she see the corners of his mouth twitch up just a bit?

"I see."

She smirked.

"Pray, Ms. Granger, Are _you_ happy?" he asked in his silken voice.

His words rushed over her like a sweet, seductive whisper.

Taking a sip of her tea, she focused on his inquiring face over the top of her teacup.

Setting it down, she folded her hands in her lap and turned to face him.

Tentatively, she broached an answer.

"More recently, perhaps, I am rediscovering happiness.

I believe it is all a state of mind.

I am choosing to be content with the circumstances in which I find myself.

There are some things I cannot change, and to sit around wishing they could be different would be foolish to the extreme."

Severus was somewhat taken aback.

"I do agree." was all he could reply.

As they spent several minutes sipping their tea in silence, he studied the witch before him.

This was not the Hermione Granger he knew.

The young lady he once knew was a fine witch.

She possessed a superior intellect.

She was not flighty, but practical and grounded – and fortunately not led astray as often as her foolish friends had been.

He found her a quiet reading companion in the library of Grimmauld Place.

He discovered her to be a capable assistant in the laboratory.

He marveled at her determination on the battlefield.

He saw her as an angel of compassion while she sat beside his hospital bed.

The woman who sat before him today was all these things, and so much more.

Obviously, time had changed this woman.

She was stronger, sadder, and infinitely lovelier.

_Obviously - people don't remain unchanged just because it's been an age since you've seen them. There would be something wrong with her if she was still the youth you remembered. _

He felt a pang.

_Regret? _

He somehow felt sad that he had missed her passage into maturity.

What would it have been like to watch her grow, change, and bloom into this astounding example of womanhood?

Growth is oftentimes messy.

He assumed her changes – like everyone's - came with hardships.

He found that he wanted to be the one to have helped her.

Did she have friends, or did she shoulder her burdens alone, as he had so many times?

He wanted her to tell him all these things.

He opened his mouth to ask, and found himself saying something else entirely.

"A person can do a lot of growing in ten years.

I made a very conscious decision not to become a bitter man.

I admit, I am lonely sometimes, but I refuse to suffer the pity of others.

I never had any desire to leave the wizarding world. After all, what ever would I do?

So instead, I live a contented life, working on my potions.

I enjoy the research, and I've earned a rather handsome living off of some of my patents.

I continue to brew the Wolfsbane Potion, and I'm working on improvements… constantly."

He chuckled softly and continued.

"And there you have it, the past decade of the life of Severus Snape – condensed into the span of fifty seconds."

Hermione had to remind herself to breathe.

She had not expected such an open discourse from Snape.

Cursing the Gryffindor in her, Hermione ventured.

"I am surprised you haven't married…" she offered.

His head snapped up to look at her intensely; she imagined she saw something flash in his impossibly dark eyes.

"I am not."

Whether it was his statement, or the look he gave her, Hermione could not say, but she felt a jolt of electricity at his words and any possible meaning behind them.

The air between them crackled with latent magical energy, as emotion and tension radiated off the powerful pair.

"Oh, Merlin! I am sorry." Hermione started floundering, and paled.

"Have I presented myself in the worst possible light?"

Severus looked relieved as he answered.

"No.

I am afraid I am not good company.

This may be a bit difficult for me, for a while."

He looked at her earnestly.

"As you know, I am not used to working with others."

He added sheepishly.

"I have no expectations." Hermione stated candidly.

He just looked at her. Truthfully, Severus was speechless. He did not know how to reply to that statement, so he sat in silence.

"Perhaps we can chalk up all this good, healthy, self-conscious interaction as our first tutorial in workplace dynamics?" she ventured.

"Perhaps." he deadpanned.

"Good, I think that we should try to be aware of each other's feelings and experiences, but neither of us is very good at being sensitive. Let's just try to be honest – ourselves, for a bit, and see how it works out. No harm, no foul."

"Agreed." he said, flashing her a swift smile.

They each turned back to their tea, to discover it had gone cold.

Pulling out his watch, Severus explained.

"While catching up has been enjoyable, I'm afraid we've talked away the afternoon.

Are you available to begin Monday next?"

Knowing her duties at the library were almost completed, Hermione readily agreed.

"Excellent. We'll discuss terms when we meet again?"

"Yes, thank you."

He stood up, and led her to the door.

Opening it, they stepped out onto the cobbled walk.

They walked the few paces until they reached the stone fence that marked the edge of the yard.

Hermione turned around, and looking up at Severus, gave him a warming smile.

"I've really had a lovely afternoon. Thank you. I'll see you Monday next."

She extended her hand for a courteous shake.

He reached out and grasped her hand in both of his, but instead of shaking, just held it for a brief moment.

"Likewise." he replied.

They parted ways, both a little lighter.

Each knowing that the future promised to be interesting.

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A/N:

Well, there you go – a little more dialog between Hermione and Severus.

They've changed a bit in the 10 years since, but hopefully, I can keep them moderately in character.

As it ends up, I have Mono. That is bad for me, but good for you. While I've been down, I've put up these past chapters in record time. Actually, I've loved it! We'll see how long it takes for RL to come beating down my door.

Tell me what you think? (shamelessly begging for reviews)

Love to all,

~FS


	26. Chapter 26

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Jo. I own nothing. Do not sue.

**Chapter 26**

On her way back to the castle, Hermione stopped at Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop.

Mister Scrivenshaft was delighted she was willing to accept the post, beginning on the first of September. He introduced her to his apprentice, Daniel, who also happened to be his nephew. Hermione remembered him from Hogwarts where he graduated three years ahead of her class.

Mister Scrivenshaft explained that with the three of them working together, it would be fine for Hermione to work Tuesdays and Thursdays. Her responsibilities including balancing the books, assisting customers, packaging custom orders, as well as cleaning and closing up shop on the days she was on duty.

Hermione could not believe her good fortune. She had the benefit of starting two suitable jobs and now only needed to find acceptable housing.

She was well ahead of schedule, as she still had a little over a month before school officially resumed.

Although her time working in the library had been wonderful, Hermione was happy it was coming to a close.

Hogwarts was full of activity these days. Elves were anxiously preparing for the return of the students.

Professors were due to arrive soon to settle their quarters and prepare for the upcoming year.

Hermione knew that administrative duties would continue to make increasing demands on Minerva.

She was content to finalize her cataloging and shelving. She had a number of incoming orders that needed attention, but these were her only remaining tasks.

Hermione planned on using her free time to prepare for life out on her own.

oooOOOooo

Severus, meanwhile, was busy trying to arrange his thoughts according to class and category – like potions ingredients - he'd been at it for a few days, now.

Never being good at letting things go, he had been dwelling on the tumultuous feelings that Hermione's visit had roused.

He was worse than a first year with a scab - he just kept picking and picking.

It was starting to drive him crazy.

He needed to go out for a walk to clear his head.

_Ahhh much better. _

_Not good to be holed up in that lab with only my thoughts. _

Severus liked to walk. It helped him sort things out.

He walked miles while developing potions, cataloguing key ingredients and all their potential interactions in his head as a student.

He walked off miles of silent fury, dismay, and buried ambition his years as a young professor.

He walked off miles of anxiety, guilt, and frustration during his time as a spy.

He walked miles learning at the shoulder of his profound friend, Albus. They had taken many walks together that last year…

_Not going there._

Severus set out on Hawthorne Street, traveling away from the village. He could walk leagues before witnessing another soul.

It was a perfect arrangement.

While at Hogwarts there were miles of halls to patrol and hundreds of stairs to climb.

Presently, he had to make more of a concerted effort to get in his cathartic work out.

He had a lot to ponder.

Severus did not account on any emotional upheavals when he originally decided to advertise for an assistant.

He did not account for one Ms. Hermione Granger.

She was an unexpected, yet entirely welcome windfall.

He was confused.

Severus prided himself on always being able to keep himself about his own business. He hated the wizarding papers. To him they were the worst representatives of yellow journalism.

Nevertheless, the day after Hermione's visit, he found himself among the ministry archives reading every document and article that had anything to do with Ronald and Hermione Weasley.

Not that he learned much, mind, but the fact that he actually did that unnerved him. Well, maybe he didn't feel too bad, everything he saw _was_ a matter of public record, and nothing half the wizarding world hadn't read.

_Damn and blast! _

_If there was one thing that I could always depend on with that witch was her ability to confuse the living daylights out of me! At least that hasn't changed._

It was years ago, when Severus came to a quiet realization, he understood he possessed a measure of respect for Miss Granger.

She had always been a good student and was interested in so many things – very much like himself.

Through the years, he had seen intelligent students, he had seen troubled students, but until the advent of Hermione Granger none that passed through his classroom could he feel any affinity toward.

Although he could never breathe a word of it, Severus did regret some elements of his classroom persona. Not so much did he regret degrading a dunderheaded student, but the ability to praise a truly worthy accomplishment was sorely missed.

Albus knew this, and it was probably this fact that prompted the decision that Severus would work with Miss Granger on neutral territory – Grimmauld's lab – on potions for the Order.

Severus grudgingly accepted that he did not mind the assistance, while Hermione could not disguise that she was thrilled to have the opportunity to advance her encyclopedic knowledge.

When working together, Severus found that she was pleasantly silent. He never had to tell her something twice, and after a while, he found himself teaching her little trade secrets he'd gathered throughout the years.

Throughout this time, it was not uncommon for him to slip her the latest issue of Ars Alchema or Potioneers Monthly. Undoubtedly, the next time they were in the lab, she would pepper him with questions, challenges, and opinions until he would threaten to never bring her another issue.

Oftentimes, they had time to read or research in the library. She was contemplative and methodical in her research and although she was far from his academic equivalent she did offer a fresh perspective and interesting questions.

He thought it irrational at the time, but he genuinely enjoyed her company and they had forged a friendship, of sorts.

To him, she embodied all the ideals they were fighting for. She represented everything he wanted to protect.

He felt equal parts foolish, lecherous, and hopeful.

It healed him to know he was still capable of love, friendship, and affection.

It held him aloft during some of his darkest months before the war ended.

_I don't even want to imagine the torture she went through when….._

Severus felt the memories pierce him like a lance.

---------------------------------------------------------------

"And my soul, Dumbledore? Mine?"

"You alone know whether it will harm your soul to help an old man avoid pain and humiliation," said Dumbledore. "I ask this one great favor of you, Severus, because death is coming for me……..

_Hermione will think I'm a murderer. _

_That I've lied to her all this time. _

_Everyone will hate me. _

_She'll hate me._

_I'll hate myself._

His tone was light, but his piercing blue eyes were begging him for his answer.

Severus gave him a curt nod.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Another time, another midnight stroll.

"You take a great deal for granted, Dumbledore! Perhaps I have changed my mind!"

_I can't do this. _

_I won't to this. _

_There has to be another way. _

_How can I kill the man who has been a mentor – a father to me?_

_I won't be able to forgive myself._

_No one will believe me. _

_I'll have nothing._

_Albus will be gone._

_I'll be alone._

Albus talked him back from the ledge and convinced him again to commit the most difficult task of his life. The act that, he knew, would condemn him to a life of loathing, suspicion, and loneliness.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

"Severus! Quickly! Death Eaters in the castle!" Filius practically screamed as he rushed into his room.

_No._

_This is it. _

"I'll be right there!" Severus replied.

As soon as Filius moved to precede him out Severus stupefied him.

He bent down to make sure the man could breathe properly.

_Sorry, old friend. At least you'll be out of harm's way for a bit._

Rushing out the door, Severus was brought up short by the sight of Hermione with Miss Lovegood.

"Miss Granger! Miss Lovegood, Professor Flitwick has collapsed in my office. Go now, and help him. Death Eaters have breached our wards. Stay. Down. Here!"

_Hermione, I'm sorry!_

_Forgive me._

_Don't hate me!_

_---------------------------------------------  
_

"Avada Kedavra!"

"It's over."

---------------------------------------------

Severus kept walking as the tears flowed freely down his face.

After he shared his memories with the damn Potter boy, he was able to work on repairing some of his past relationships.

Not that it hadn't taken the majority of ten years, mind.

_Damn._

Severus hated to think of that year after Dumbledore's death.

It was, without a doubt, the worst year of his life.

It was harder than the years following his mother's death, though he missed her terribly.

It was harder than the years following the Potters' deaths.

Heavier than the burden of guilt he'd carried for years.

It was agonizing.

He was nearly crushed with self-hatred and loneliness.

If it were not for the war, and needing to help Potter fulfill the blasted prophecy, Severus would have ended his miserable existence that year.

_But, as they say, what doesn't kill us makes us stronger_.

_I've moved on, I continue to move on. Merlin help me. _

Some relationships were easier to heal than others.

Oh, Filius was affronted for a while at being stupefied and was a bit put out at being deceived for Severus' tenure as headmaster. However, he'd never been a wizard to hold a grudge and his house's lauded intelligence had yet to fail him, so they let the whole matter drop. Forgive and forget as it were.

Poppy was another matter altogether. While Minerva viewed Severus as a colleague and peer, Poppy had almost a maternal affection for him. Even through that terrible year, she could not bring herself to treat him coldly. He was sure that at times, it drew her scrutiny from the other staff members. However, as she'd put it, "Boy, I've put you back together more times than either than us can count, so what's a little unpleasantness between us, hmmmm?" He was shocked that this was her reaction and was grateful - gods was he grateful - but all he could give her was a scowl in return. They'd shared many secrets, out of necessity, and she knew the fine line he'd walked all those years. She returned his scowl with a knowing look, but never said a word.

_Smart witch. Probably what kept them both alive. _

Reconciliation with Minerva had been Gryffindor to the extreme.

"Damn you Severus! You played your role too well. Why didn't you tell me? Why couldn't you tell me?" she practically shrieked. "Did you think I'd let it slip? That I couldn't keep your secret?!?"

"No, Minnie, I was trying to keep you safe. …I'm sorry."

She cried and clutched his hand, fat tears spilling down her cheeks, "I couldn't believe when they told me. I just couldn't believe it. …I'm sorry…. I… I'm just so sorry I doubted you, Severus, I should have known.

"No, it was better that you didn't."

Sobs were wracking her thin frame. "Why didn't I pursue it? I should have forced you to tell me! I'm sorry I didn't …. I think I was too… too wrapped up in my own grief. I'm sorry."

She continued, although now with a defiant spark in her eyes.

"I'm pretty mad at _him_, too."

"You know he loved you, Minerva."

"Did he?"

"Yes, he did. I think it was, in the end, just too difficult for him to voice to you."

"Well, that was cowardly of him."

"Perhaps."

"I've missed you, Severus."

"Me too, Min."

After a long embrace and a few more tears, they were once again quite familiar.

Although he was on affable terms with the remaining members of the staff, he was not invested in any kind of relationships with them.

It was an unwritten rule, no doubt one they thought was a serious character flaw, that he did not discuss former students with his erstwhile colleagues.

He suspected they figured that he hated his students and although they did not understand why, they at least acknowledged his wishes. His reasoning was, in actuality, quite simple. He could not bear to hear her name.

He never heard any news. Severus never asked after her. He could only assume that out of respect for his privacy, she had never asked about him.

_I was an idiot. _

It had been so long since he thought of her.

Her marriage to the Weasley twit had hurt him more than he cared to admit at the time.

He was just a foolish old man. How dare he even think of her? She was a beautiful young lady. Why should she even look twice at him?

_There was nothing I could have offered her – for Merlin's sake I couldn't even give her my friendship. _

_And I told her that. To her face!_

_Gods, how could she even stand to look at me after all that?_

He was a mangled war veteran.

He tried to convince himself that she should go off and marry famous Ron and make lots of babies.

Those thoughts just turned his stomach and made him angry.

Eventually, it became easier not to think of her.

Severus had walked for miles, and it was time to return home.

Although his walk was cleansing and he knew he'd be better off for the exercise, he was frustrated.

He was still no closer to figuring out his feelings regarding Ms. Hermione Granger.

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A/N:

See poor Severus - He's still a little tortured, but he's healing. That was very bittersweet to write.

Review please!!!

I've got more, I just figured this would be a good place for a chapter break.

Love to all,

~FS


	27. Chapter 27

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Jo. I own nothing. Do not sue.

**Chapter 27**

Severus met Hermione in the front yard that Monday morning.

"Good morning, Ms. Granger."

"Good morning, Master Snape."

"First item of business, you will not refer to me by that designation. I will not accept it. I am not, nor will I ever be anyone's master."

A look of steely determination passed quickly over his features. It was so fleeting that, for a moment, Hermione thought she had imagined it.

"My apologies. I meant it only as a proper form of address, befitting a master of his craft."

"Mastery of a craft is a fine and noble thing, but I still refuse the label."

"Yes, sir."

He raised his eyebrow but nodded his acceptance.

"I'll give you the tour now and an overview of how I run things, as well as what I'm currently working on if that is amenable to you, Ms. Granger."

She nodded the affirmative, pulling out her quill and parchment, ready to take notes.

_Gods, some things never change. _he smirked.

Hermione, eagerly waiting his instructions, was oblivious to his look.

Leading her up the front stairs, the entered the vestibule.

The last time Hermione was here, she was so preoccupied she hardly took notice of this area of the house.

The vestibule was not large - each wall, measuring about eight feet square, was finished in a rich wood paneling.

The door to her right, as she remembered, led to the sitting room. The door to her left, where he met with her initially, led to what was presumably his office. The walls were paneled in the same rich wood. A large desk, with two comfortable arm chairs arranged in front of it, and a heavy looking bookcase were the dominant pieces in the space. Peeking onto the room, Hermione noticed two windows in the front wall and a door leading somewhere behind the desk.

"This is my office. The only area of the home I conduct my public business. I make myself available to meet with select clients for case-taking, consultations, and individual potion prescriptions. The door behind the desk leads to the kitchen in the rear of the house."

Stepping back through the vestibule Hermione spied, nestled into the wood paneling, a door no more than three feet high. Severus noticed her eyeing it curiously, and informed her, "This door leads to Austen's quarters. He is the only other occupant of the home, aside from Hephaestus, my cat and my owl, Dio."

"He is your house elf, sir?" Hermione inquired.

"A free elf, actually. He was gifted to me from Hogwarts, as it were. We came to satisfactory arrangements. He is free, educated, and maintains quarters here and is repaid for his time. I told you before - I am no one's master. I would ask that you respect the privacy of his quarters."

"Of course." Hermione acknowledged, "I look forward to meeting them."

"Soon enough for all of that, shall we continue?"

Leading her back through the sitting room, Hermione once again took note of the taste of the home with approval.

The rear of the house opened up to a large eat-in kitchen, which was painted a cheery yellow. Along the right wall, Severus pointed out a door and two flights of stairs.

"There is a WC through that door. One set of stairs leads to the upper level which includes three bedrooms and another loo. The other set of stairs will bring you to the lab in the basement. Please feel free to use what you need in the kitchen. I will provide lunch on the days you are working, but you are welcome to make tea at any time."

Hermione nodded, taking all this in with interest.

Gesturing to his right, Severus continued, "I'll take you upstairs first, then we can finish up in the lab."

Hermione watched, astonished, as a two faint spots of color suffused the stern man's cheeks. He scowled briefly.

_Brilliant, Sev. Charming, as always._

As he paused, and she processed how his words could have been interpreted, it was her turn to blush slightly.

_Get a grip Hermione. As if he'd ever….._

Severus and Hermione were both grateful they were not facing each other as they climbed the stairs. They were both composed as they reached the landing of the upstairs hallway.

"This first door on the right is the full bath. Across from it is my room." He said, with a wave of dismissal to his left.

Moving quickly further down the hall, he stopped. "The door straight ahead is a linen closet. To the right is the study."

Hermione followed him into the room and was taken aback by the beautifully unceremonious library. Floor to ceiling shelves consumed the entire room. There were hundreds of books - some double shelved - on every surface. A window seat looked out over the back garden. In the corner sat a large desk overflowing with parchments, quills, and inkpots. In a relaxed fashion, two chairs sat in front of an unlit hearth - a table holding an empty wine glass was nestled between them.

"Sir, this is beautiful." She said, her eyes dancing over the shelves, the soft cushions of the seat, and his chaotic work area. Her look of delight was intoxicating and he found himself smiling back at her.

"Am I to assume that this most muddled of studies is your favorite room thus far? Surely this vista of my humble abode could never rival the library of our Alma Mater; however, you were always easily impressed when there were books involved."

Hermione looked at his amused face, marveling at the hospitality and congeniality she was receiving from him. She very much wanted to get to know the man standing with her in his study.

Unable to think of anything to say, Hermione just shook her head. She took in the room again.

_Yes, this is my favorite room by far. This room above all others proves one thing I've known all along. Severus Snape is human. _

Shaking his head in amusement, Severus led Hermione out of the study to the room across the hall.

He stood outside the door, and paused awkwardly for the slightest moment before he opened it.

"I hope you find this room to your liking as well. As you know, our work will require three days straight brewing for the Wolfsbane. I've taken the liberty of arranging suitable accommodations for you during that interval."

He stood aside and let her into the room.

Hermione gasped as she stepped into the beautifully appointed light-filled space. The walls were the softest crème color. An ornate antique French-inspired headboard and distressed side tables combined pleasantly into the neutral background. A low dresser, also painted the same soft color was provided for her use. At the foot of the bed, an arm chair and small table were nestled in front of a cozy fireplace. Lining the mantelpiece, Hermione noticed, were candles – all white, linen, or cream – in various sizes in assorted bronze holders. When they were lit, Hermione was sure the effect was striking, dramatic. Soft white bedding adorned the double bed and a lovely crème floral print accented the windows and a few decorative pillows. A small flower arrangement in cream, rust, and pink on the nightstand added the perfect touch to one of the most gorgeous bedrooms Hermione had ever seen.

"Oh." she gasped.

Hermione continued breathlessly, "This room is lovely. I've never… I mean I wouldn't presume to… it's beautiful."

Hermione turned to him with a look of wonder, delight shining in her eyes.

_Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods… act cool Severus!_

Apparently having lost the power of speech Hermione stood studying his face, her mind racing.

"Did you do this just for me?" she blurted out, recovering.

Suddenly, Severus found his dragon hide boots most fascinating. His blush was her certain answer.

"Oh, sir, I couldn't possibly…." she began.

Suddenly, he straightened. His embarrassment seemingly forgotten, he interrupted.

"You can and you will.

What else would you suggest? I will not have my assistant sleeping on a mattress in the lab or, heaven forbid, my sofa.

A tired potioneer, wielding a knife, with expensive and oftentimes volatile ingredients is a recipe for disaster.

Trust me, I know."

He said this last holding up and hand that, she noticed for the first time, was missing the upper two thirds of his small finger.

Bringing her hands to her mouth, Hermione caught her breath.

"Oh sir, oh no."

Seeing her legitimately concerned look, he relented, laughing.

He lifted the disillusionment on his finger.

Wiggling said whole appendage, he pontificated, "All kidding aside, Ms. Granger, do not let pride in the lab or just plain foolishness lead you to making an irreversible mistake."

That humor was just enough to dissolve any tension his magnanimous gesture had earned.

"You're right, sir, of course. I do apologize. I didn't mean to sound ungrateful. The room is really lovely." she was smiling again.

"Let us move down to the laboratory. I'll show you some of my latest research."

Falling onto the time-honored crutch of academia, the two scholars rested in the safe conversations of the latest potions study.

Nothing could have prepared Hermione for the sight before her. The laboratory was wonderful – clean, spacious, and perfectly organized.

The room was light, dry, and handsomely appointed. A stone floor joined stone walls lined with wooden shelves. It was not dissimilar to his classroom, yet at the same time was nothing like it.

There were three long tables in the middle of the room that could be used for preparation and brewing. Several brewers could easily navigate between the tables, making it easy to brew multiple potions simultaneously, or brew potions in an assembly line fashion.

"There is practical laboratory space for the brewing of thirty standard size cauldrons." Severus explained.

"The door on the back wall leads up to the back garden."

He directed her attention to the far wall where two large windows let in a fair amount of light and a small flight of stairs led up to a bulkhead basement door.

"And before you ask, yes, it comes in handy when I've had to air the lab. While experimenting, I've had my share of melted cauldrons as well as all manner of boil-overs."

Towering shelves loaded with potions ingredients ran the entire length of one wall. A rolling ladder was in place to facilitate collection and shelving.

Hermione looked in awe at the rows of hundreds of glass jars and vials. Glass containers, ranging from large two gallon jars to small vials, were lined up alphabetically in long rows. She had never witnessed such a vast assortment of ingredients in a private collection.

She took time to inspect the ingredients, sometimes lifting a jar or vial to further examine it. Severus let her take her time becoming acclimated to the lab.

Not taking her eyes off the glass menagerie, Hermione inquired, "This is your glassed collection. What others do you have?"

"I have a dry collection in the closet behind you, I have ingredients hung and boxed. I also have a locked cabinet for some of the magically controlled substances. I've never had company in the lab, but it is only the prudent practice."

"Of course."

"I've done several experiments with frozen elements, some with moderate success, although it hasn't been filled with overwhelming promise."

"I've always wondered. I'd like to look over your notes sometime, if you have no objections."

"None at all."

They continued with trade talk for some time, Hermione still taking stock of his stores.

Severus observed her appraisal of his lab with interest. She inspected all sorts of powders, plants, poisons, flora, fauna, minerals, hairs, stones, and elements in all forms.

"Your shelving system is to be admired, sir. Not only do you have ingredients shelved according to element, but also preparation, with a separate sub-category of elemental type, including botanical classification."

Turning to him with a look of undisguised wonder, she gushed, "This is a work of art!"

_Brilliant Herms, you idiot! Way to go! Now, he'll truly esteem you! Your obnoxious enthusiasm has been commendable. _

She stood patiently, waiting for the rebuke she was sure was coming for her obvious lack of maturity.

"Thank you."

Upon seeing her confused look, Severus added, "I quite agree. It is not often someone recognizes the noble art of potioneering. Taking care of the most delicate ingredients with such meticulousness can be considered nothing less than fine art."

To her amazement, he continued.

"Oftentimes I like to come down here and look at the supplies, although with far less enthusiasm. There is a peace and order to be found here, and it is beautiful. Now that I know we share certain proclivities – I'll join you."

He moved up beside her and together they catalogued different ingredients in their various forms – it really was an impressive body of work.

"Unlike the Hogwarts potions lab - where the objective was teaching the students various preparations - I prefer, for most of my experiments, to have ingredients prepared ahead of time. I try to have what I'll need on hand."

"In addition to tinctures, essences, oils, and macerations, many ingredients can be stored in their prepared forms, be they chopped, cubed, diced, dried, grated, ground, minced, powdered, rubbed, shredded, sliced, or slivered."

Hearing him talk of his work, Hermione marveled at the transformation on his face. Unfettered by the conventions of polite society, she watched him come alive. United in their passion for the trade, they could speak as fellows. She did not doubt this would be her favorite part of this job.

He caught her studying him.

"What?"

"Nothing, only expecting to hear the first-year's potions speech rolling off your tongue any second. I remember it quite well, it was actually pretty mesmerizing."

"Mesmerizing?"

"Definitely."

They both turned back to the shelves, neither one knowing how to end the conversation.

After what seemed like an acceptable time, Severus broke their silence.

"It is almost noon. I'll go and assist Austen with lunch."

Nodding her head, Hermione moved over to the dry potions ingredients.

A while later she heard Severus descending the stairs.

Clearing his throat, he began, "It is a rather nice day. I thought we'd take lunch out in the yard."

Walking out into the back garden, Severus motioned toward the corner of the yard, where Hermione noticed a small table with four chairs settled under a tree.

He held out a chair for her, and they both sat down to a nice lunch of roast chicken salt potatoes, and a salad.

"I could get used to this." Hermione said with a smile.

"Austen does put out a nice lunch." He agreed.

"He takes good care of me in this regard. As you may recall, I do become distracted with my research and projects, and I still forget to stop and eat."

"I'm glad you have him." she stated plainly.

_By the gods! When will I ever learn to shut my mouth? Well, there's nothing for it now, I've surely overstepped my bounds. I didn't even last until lunch…_

Noticing how the blush ran up her cheeks, rather fetchingly, all he could do was smile and feel slightly warmed that she was glad he'd been cared for.

"Indeed."

Thankfully, Austen chose that precise moment to serve the treacle tart, a dessert they – silently – enjoyed.

After they finished, Severus directed Hermione through the gardens, showing her the collection of fresh growing ingredients, as well as a pleasant patch of vegetables.

As they walked, Severus enlightened Hermione, "I continue to brew the Wolfsbane."

"For that reason alone, I require your assistance. For the few days it takes to brew, I am awake constantly. I could handle the load when I was supplying a few private patients; however, St. Mungo's has just asked me to brew independently for them. I want to take the contract, but knew I would be unable to handle the caseload alone."

She laughed, "It is a wonder, that I've just tendered my resignation from the illustrious establishment only to turn around to brew for them again."

"You could look at it that way. Or, you could accept that the challenge of brewing this most difficult potion is a far superior to your former drudgeries."

"And the company infinitely more motivating." She teased.

"Well, yes, there _is_ that."

oooOOOooo

Hermione and Severus parted company in the early afternoon.

Each simultaneously looking forward to Wednesday and relieved that the first day, along with the awkwardness that accompanied it, was out of the way.

Hermione was ready for the long walk back to the castle.

Severus felt the need for a glass of aged firewhisky – he couldn't think of the last time he wanted a drink before dinner.

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A/N:

There you have it, the next chapter. Please consider dropping a line to let me know how I'm doing. (a nice way of begging, please review)

Thanks again for reading, you make my day!

Love to All,

~FS


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